Killing is a Last Resort
by Jet Engine
Summary: Many of you think that I was raised with love and affection. I mean, I'm not evil, so that must be the case, right? Well, maybe I have a little more of a backstory than that. My name is Perry, and this is my real story, filled with betrayal, heartbreak, and deaths that never should have happened./ Other genres include friendship and mild angst.
1. Prologue

**Yes, I am writing about Perry's origin. Yes, people have done that, before. Don't worry. Mine is a little different.**

**Warning: Contains murder, blood, cursing, violence, and general dark themes.**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

You know what I never understood? All of you just assume that I've always been the good guy. Well, you're half right. I am _currently_ the good guy. What you people fail to comprehend is that I'm not perfect. I never was, and I never will be.

I make mistakes. We all do. It's not a big deal, is it? Well, that depends on the mistake.

I've read about what you think I am. Your stories are accurate enough - well, some of them - but they only capture who I am, _today_.

A lot of you have created stories about my upbringing. Oh, how I wish those stories were true. I wish that worst thing that ever happened in my childhood was losing my parents or being bullied or whatever.

Like I said, I make mistakes. Some are bigger than others. Some I didn't make a big out of, when they happened.

Some I wish never did happen. Those are the ones I wish I could forget.

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><p><strong>I promise the chapters will be longer.<strong>


	2. Training

**The first chapter is here! *confetti falls***

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Training<strong>

The full moon shone in the starless night sky, barely visible through the forest's abundance of trees. It was almost pitch black, because of those trees. I was borderline blind as I raced through the woods in pursue of my target. I had nothing to guide me to him, but the sound of his footsteps and the smells of fear and blood wafting from him. My target was close. I ran as fast as my two legs could carry me. Adrenaline surged through me, as I ran.

I paused suddenly, listening. The only sounds were those of my own panting and increased heart rate. I tasted the air. The unmistakable smell of a bleeding animal bathed my tongue. West. My target was no longer on the move. Probably catching his breath, the moron. Knowing better than to rush to him, I dropped on to all-fours, flattened my wide, flat tail against the ground, and crept silently in the direction of the smell.

The smell grew increasingly stronger. I stopped and peered behind a tree trunk. There he was, facing away from me, panting. My target was a red fox, much bigger than me. A twisted smile graced my bill, as I admired my handiwork. The fox had several gashes all over his body. Blood - beginning to dry - coated his orange pelt. My job was not yet completed.

I wasn't worried about the fox scenting me. The wind was blowing toward me, hiding my scent and bringing the aroma of fear and blood to my nostrils. I removed a bloody dagger from the black belt around my waist. I crept the slightest bit closer. My sadistic grin widened. Perfect.

I sliced my dagger across the back of the fox's back-leg. The fox let out a cry of shock and pain, as it collapsed. I stood back up and checked his face for any sign of life. It stared back at me in utter horror. Still alive, damn it. That thing was either stupid, strong-willed, or some combination of the two. I admired the work I had done on his face. His nose was bleeding, and he was missing an eye and an ear.

One more slice would take care of this creature. I paused for only a moment, wondering where to make the final blow. Perhaps the throat? Yes, that seemed like a good spot. I took one final look into the fox's terror-filled yellow eyes.

His expression bared the question, 'Aren't you a little young to be a murderer?'

My expression bared the answer, 'Yes. Yes, I am.'

I jammed my dagger into his throat, heard a sharp gasp from the fox, and pulled out my weapon. The life slowly drained from the fox's eyes. With a satisfied nod, I slipped my dagger carefully back into my belt.

"Excellent, Perry," a familiar voice praised. "You took a bit longer than you should have, but there isn't a scratch on you that I can see. Good job."

I puffed out my chest in pride. "Thank you, Donovan."

The forest around me slowly faded into the white walls of the practice room. My belt was gone, as well. I knew that Donovan had been watching me from the one-way window in the front of the room. The practice room was a little something that Donovan, as well two other animal scientists, had whipped up for the team. You could choose a location on the keypad outside the room, as well as a scenario and any animals - humans included. Then, through some science-y stuff I - to this day - don't understand, a holographic projection of the selected situation is produced in the practice room. It's unbelievably realistic, and great for trainees, like myself, to hone their skills.

I exited the practice room and entered the dark walls of the laboratory, blinking, as my eyes adjusted to the difference in lighting. Even though the lighting itself was the same as that of the practice room, the lab seemed darker due to the coloration of the walls.

Donovan was a dingo with sand-colored fur, dark brown, almost black, eyes, and a small scar just about his brow. I somewhat admired him at the time. He was both intelligent and great in a fight. Plus, he and I shared a tendency for sarcasm.

I stretched. "That was too easy. When am I gonna get to do something harder in there?"

Donovan chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Kids. Always impatient. To answer your question, I don't think you'll have to wait much longer. You're only problem is that you still take a little too long." Huh? I tilted my head in confusion. "You need to kill the opponent as fast as possible."

I shrugged. "That fox was fast."

"I know, but that only emphasizes my point."

I scowled, because I knew he was right. My reaction time was still a little slow. If I didn't pick up the pace, I'd never get to go out on a mission. "What do you suggest?" I asked.

"Just try to pace yourself a little more." Donovan told me. "You're a fast learner, so I'm sure you'll get it in no time."

I smiled slightly. Again, he was right. I could pace myself. I knew I could. "Gotcha. Thanks."

"Same time, tomorrow, Perry?"

"You know it."

I left the lab and headed down the hall and to my room. But, not before my over-eager friend graced me with his presence. Rascal the Bilby had light gray fur with brown patches and white at the tip of his furry tail. His navy blue eyes crackled with curiosity, as he draped an arm around my shoulders. "So, how'd everyone's favorite beaver-duck do?"

Rascal loved to tease me by calling me a 'beaver-duck' instead of a platypus. You can imagine why. Fortunately, I had grown rather used to him calling me that.

I removed his arm from my shoulder. "Donovan says I still take too long. In my defense, though, I've never dealt with foxes, before, and I didn't know how fast they were. Plus, the forest was pretty dark."

Rascal and I entered our room - usually, siblings bunk together, but neither of us had those, so we shared a room - as Rascal rolled his eyes and groaned. "I don't see why we have to learn to fight in forests and such. We live in the _outback_. There are, like, no forests. And, foxes? Really?"

Our room wasn't much to look at. Just two beds and a small, restroom; Thank you, scientists, for the gift of indoor plumbing in an underground hideout.

I sat down on my bed. "Mom says we have to learn to defend ourselves in all types of terrain, against all types of opponents."

Rascal sat beside me and rolled his eyes again. "_Please_. What are the odds we'll ever be in _any_ of those situations?"

Honestly, he had a point. I shrugged. "Better safe than sorry. Isn't that the motto we're taught?"

"I thought the motto was 'kill or be killed.'"

I shrugged again. "I guess both of them work."

Rascal nodded. "Yeah." I didn't have to ask how he did in training. He'd tell me even if I didn't want to know. "They stuck me in a forest, too. Only, I was targeting a bobcat. I managed to kill the thing off, eventually. It's a good thing the injuries we get are as fake as the holograms, 'cause I got a nasty scratch on my back from that thing." He laid back, hands resting under his head. "I don't know how you do it, man."

I laid back in the same position. "Do what?"

"You seem to do everything right. Or, at least close to right. How do you do it?"

I'd never thought of that before. I usually just did what I was taught. Mom taught me to defend myself, so I did. As to how I did 'everything right,' well, I didn't have an answer. "I'm not sure. I just kinda do it, you know?"

We laid like that for a while, both of us just kind of thinking. I don't know what he was thinking about - knowing him, it was probably what we may or may not be having for dinner - but I was thinking about what he said about me doing everything right. Was that true? Maybe. I wasn't really sure.

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><p><strong>Not what you expected, right? Review!<strong>


	3. Mother Dearest

**This chapter's a little shorter than I'd like it to be... Oh well!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Mother Dearest<strong>

I didn't care if it was lame; Sunday dinners with Mom were my favorite part of the week. It was nice to unwind with a plate of whatever on my lap, babbling about who-knows-what with my Mom. Plus, the woman could cook.

I knocked on the door to her office, heard a blunt "Come in," and opened the door.

Anyone could tell that me and Mom were related. We both had brown eyes, tangerine-colored bill and tail, and similar fur - hers was mint green, while mine was more of a teal. I eyed the bowls of salad on her desk and my grin widened. Unlike most children my age, I actually preferred healthy food. Probably because I was brought up on the stuff.

I sat down on the small loveseat - you'd be surprised what you can find on missions - and Mom sat beside me, handing me one of the bowls of salad. "So, squirt," Mom began, "how was training today?"

She popped a forkful of salad into her mouth, as I answered, "Easy as pie. I think I'm ready for a bigger challenge." I cocked my brow and smirked. "A challenge, like - I don't know - a mission of some kind? Hint, hint?"

Mom rolled her eyes. "Squirt, you _know_ you're not ready, yet."

I suppose I should explain what the 'missions' are all about. Patricia the Platypus - a.k.a. my mother - was the leader of the Australian division of a group, known as S.T.O.R.M. That stands for Society of Trained Organisms for Ravaging Man. Sounds evil, right? Well, the animals involved are actually trained to protect themselves and others against the human race. Humans, whether they know it or not, caused around seventy percent of animal deaths. S.T.O.R.M. had few divisions - only one in each country - but they were all after the same goal: protecting themselves and others from humans. Missions can be anything from gathering supplies to preventing forests from being cut down. Things like that. We only harmed animals in the practice for, well, practice. We worked up to killing humans. However, we had the protect-real-world-animals-rule drilled into our heads from birth.

I said through a mouthful of food, "Whatever you say." I swallowed. "But, I think I could handle it. I succeeded in today's training without a single scratch on me. A mission would be a cake walk."

Mom shook her head jokingly. "Cocky as always, I see. You'll be helping out soon enough."

_How soon is soon?_ I wondered.

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><p>"How soon is soon?" Rascal asked me, echoing my earlier thoughts.<p>

He and I were back in our room. He was currently sitting on his bed, doodling on a sketch pad his father had brought back for him, and I would have been reading Harper Lee's _To Kill a Mockingbird_, if he didn't keep asking me questions.

I placed my makeshift bookmark - basically a small piece of notebook paper - in my book and sat down beside me on my own bed. "Beats me. You know adults." I shrugged. "They're weird."

Rascal looked up from whatever he was drawing. "Ya think we'll get to go on a mission together?"

"Maybe." I smiled at the thought. A mission with a guy like Rascal the Bilby? Despite myself, I let out a small laugh.

Rascal put down his sketch pad. "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about us on a mission together." I laughed again. "Who knows what kind of trouble I'd have to get you out of?"

Rascal faked offense. "Hey," he pointed to himself for emphasis, "I could get _myself_ out of trouble."

With an amused smirk, I picked up my book and lied down. Sarcasm tainted my voice. "Yep, just like you could get _yourself_ out from under your bed, when your lucky quarter rolled under it."

Something soft bopped me on my side. I put my book back down and found a pillow sitting next to my bed. Rascal was whistling innocently. I couldn't resist. I picked his pillow up and threw it square in his face, making him fall backwards on his mattress. I cupped my hand over my bill to stifle a rising giggle. Rascal pulled the pillow off his face and sat upright, grinning in a way that told me that he was getting one of his infamous ideas.

I crossed my arms and gave him a knowing look. "You're planning something, aren't you, Rascal?"

My friend's grinned widened. "You sure know me, Beaver-Duck. Okay, here's what I'm thinking," when Rascal started a sentence like that, you knew he was up to something, "you think you're ready for a mission, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what he was getting at. "Right...?"

"And, I think I'm ready for a mission, right?"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"You bet your beaver-tail it is." Raising my suspicions even higher, he tip-toed to the door and opened it. He was obviously making sure no one was around to hear him. He silently closed the door, tip-toed to me, and sat down beside me. He whispered, "What do you say we go on our own mission? _Tonight_?"

Was he serious? I checked his face and body language for any sign that he was kidding. Nope. Totally serious. I whispered, "Is that a good idea? I mean, what if we get caught?"

Rascal waved off my worries. "We're not gonna get caught. Trust me."

The last time he said, 'Trust me,' I ended up getting my shoulder grazed by a gunshot. "I don't know..."

"Come on, mate. Aren't you curious what the outside world is like?"

Admittedly, I was. Rascal and I wouldn't be allowed outside, until we completed our training. We would probably be finished in a week or two, though. I could wait. Still...just because I _could_ didn't mean I _wanted_ to... I sighed in defeat. "It's against my better judgment, but what the hell, right?"

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><p><strong>So, what kind of trouble will those two get themselves into? Review to find out.<strong>


	4. Sneaking Out, Take One

**When we last left Perry and Rascal, they were planning to step out of the hideout for a bit. Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Sneaking Out, Take One<strong>

I was dreaming about an earthquake and discovered the reason, when I woke up. Rascal had been shaking me. "Ready to go?" He asked.

Then, I remembered. We were going to sneak out and take a look at outside. I rubbed my tired eyes and looked at the clock. It was about two in the morning. I lay back down. "I changed my mind. This is a stupid idea."

"Dude, I know you hate being woken up early," Rascal - maybe - apologized, "but this'll be fun. It's not like we'll get caught, or something." He chuckled. "Security's not as great as one would think."

Figuring he wouldn't stop bugging unless I agreed, I sighed. "Alright." I stood up and stretched.

Rascal grinned. "There's my guy. Come on."

I started to follow him out, but I noticed the photograph on my nightstand. It was of me, my mom, and Miles the Platypus, who Mom tells me is my dad. Dad and I didn't have as many similarities - appearance wise - as Mom and I did, with his red-orange bill and tail and lime green eyes. Really, the only genetic thing he seemed to give me was teal-colored fur. And, the three longer hairs on my head that served no purpose. According to Mom, Dad was killed by poachers before I was hatched. (Not 'born.' Platypuses lay eggs, weird as it sounds.) Apparently, he was the best soldier we had. Mom always said that Dad would be proud of me. Would he still be proud, if I snuck out?

Rascal noticed my hesitance. He had his hand on the door knob, when he asked, still excited, "What are you waiting for, mate?"

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. No. I wouldn't sneak out. "I-I don't think we should..."

Rascal deflated, making me feel bad. I hadn't meant to kill his enthusiasm. He let go of the door knob. "Why not? I thought you wanted to check out the outside."

I looked at anything but him. "You go ahead, if you want."

I didn't have to look at my friend to know that he was disappointed. "No. I'm not going out without my partner in crime."

Damn bilby. He knew how to make a guy feel like crap. "I don't wanna hold you back, mate. Go on ahead."

He grinned. "I'll bring you back a souvenir!"

"Yeah, you do that."

The moment he left the room, I looked back at my photograph. Dad would be proud of my willpower. I knew he would, because I _really_ wanted to see what was outside.

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><p>The next morning, I was awakened by a pounding at the door. Groaning - I was <em>not<em> a morning person at the time - I dragged myself out of bed, rubbed my tired eyes, and forced my legs to carry me to the door. I blinked twice in surprise. My mother was standing there. She never woke soldiers or trainees up, unless there was something important going on. And, while her body language was completely and utterly professional, she seemed worried.

"Everything okay, Mom?" I asked, suddenly wide awake.

"Perry, when did you last see Rascal?" Mom asked, fear barely tainted her voice. I'm pretty sure that being a mother had given her a soft spot for children in general.

I blinked again. Now that I thought about it, Rascal was usually the first to answer the door, as well as the first to wake up and the first to wake _me_ up. Surely he'd come back from the surface, right? "I haven't seen him since last night. Y-you mean he's not here?"

Mom engaged leadership-mode. "Son, I need you to think about this. Are there any possible places he could be, right now?"

Damn it, damn it, _damn it_! I didn't want to sell my friend out, but if there was a chance he was in danger, what choice did I have? I swallowed. "He wanted to take a look outside..." Mom's eyes widened in shock, then she smacked her forehead. She was fully aware of Rascal's recklessness. I continued, "I told him it was a bad idea..." Well, it wasn't technically a lie. I did _imply_ that I thought it was a bad idea.

Mom nodded, and her bill quirked up in a tiny smile. "You got a good head on your shoulders, squirt, just like your father."

I watched Mom head down the hall, probably to organize a rescue patrol. I almost wanted to tell her that I told him to go out on his own. The thought came crashing down on me. I _told_ him to go out on his own. Would he have come back, if I'd gone with him? They say there's safety in numbers. Maybe I should have gone with him.

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><p>I know that did okay in training. I was distracted, but I did okay. The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. I stood by the elevator that evening, waiting for the rescue patrol to return. Questions like, 'Did something bad happen to him?' and 'What if a human found him?' ran through my head. My guilty conscience weighed down on me. If Rascal didn't come back, I'd blame myself.<p>

After what felt like weeks, the patrol arrived, consisting of Donovan, a kangaroo named Marcie, and a bearded-dragon named Brock. They came out of the large elevator, and I wanted to bombard them with questions. I wanted to, but the only thing that came out of my bill was, "Well?"

Marcie looked at me sadly and shrugged. "We've searched the best we could..."

"But, we've got nothin'," Brock finished for her.

My heart sank. "Maybe-maybe you missed something..."

Donovan put his hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, Perry, but we couldn't find him."

As I'd predicted, I blamed myself. I was the one who told him to go on his own. I was the one who should have gone with him. Rascal had to be out there somewhere. He wouldn't have just vanished into thin air. I had to find him. Maybe Dad would be disappointed, but at that point I didn't care.

Tonight, I'd sneak out. And, I would _not_ back down, this time.

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><p><strong>Will Perry follow through with his plan? Will Rascal ever be found? Will I ever stop asking questions? Review to find out.<strong>


	5. Sneaking Out, Take Two

**Warning: You will probably hate me by the time you finish reading this chapter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Sneaking Out, Take Two<strong>

The small search party headed back inside, probably to report their failure to Mom. I just stood there, watching them go. Rascal had yet to be found and brought back. If he was even alive... I pushed the thought aside. Rascal was reckless, but he'd be okay. Well, maybe not okay - the poor guy had a tendency to inadvertently tick people off - but he'd be alive. I knew he would.

I suddenly remembered that I was standing next to the elevator. The elevator that led out of the hideout. Away from S.T.O.R.M., and leading to...where ever the hell Rascal was. Did I dare? Since a trainee had escaped and wound up MIA (that means 'Missing In Action'), security would be tighter. It would be nearly impossible to escape, tonight.

So...maybe now?

"Perry?" Donovan's voice broke me out of my trance. He seemed upset. I figured it was because he was upset about not finding Rascal. He put his hand on my shoulder. "I...don't know how to tell you this."

That was never a good sign. I shrugged, hoping I seemed more nonchalant than I felt. "So, just say it. How bad can it be?"

Donovan bit his lower lip. (Do dingoes have lips? Well, you know what I mean.) "We did find Rascal."

Hope flared in my chest. "What? Why didn't you bring him back?" The moment I asked the question, I knew the answer. It was written all over Donovan's face. "No. No, no, no."

Donovan sucked in air through his teeth. "Rascal's dead, Perry. The others wanted to tell you the truth, because you two were such good friends. Then again, you'd probably find out at some point..."

"You're sure he's...that?" Donovan sighed sadly and nodded. My heart plummeted into my stomach. Looking at anything but the dingo in front of me, I waved Donovan away. "I need to think." Donovan nodded and left me to my thoughts.

Rascal wasn't dead, was he? If he was then what happened? Did he have a run-in with a human? If he was alive...then _he was alive_. Either way, I wanted to go out there and see for myself. I took another look at the elevator. Did I really want to find out? Mom would be furious and frightened - the way mothers get. Donovan would just shake his head and mutter something about kids acting stupid. Dad would...I don't know. I've never met him.

But...I'd always managed to get Rascal out of trouble. If there was even a chance he was alive, then I had to take it.

After making sure no one was around, I pressed the button on the elevator, border-line threw myself into it, and pressed the 'close' button before I could lose my nerve. I waited, my heart racing a mile a minute. What awaited me up there, in the outside world? What would I find? Was it anything like the practice room? Would I see other animals? Would I find a human? My stomach churned at the thought. I had yet to fight off virtual-reality humans in the practice room. What would I do, if I saw a real live human?

What did they even look like? My mother had told me some stories about them. According to her, humans were really big creatures that were hairless - except for their heads - and had pelts of various colors that they could take off and put on as they pleased. They sounded like really weird creatures.

The elevator stopped and I took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever was out there. The doors opened, and I saw-

Wow.

The outback was _huge_. There wasn't as many, well, things as I'd imagined, but it was pretty darn cool. There was red dirt everywhere, as well as rocks, some grass that was obviously drying out, and a bush.

Okay, the bush was the camouflaged elevator, but still.

I didn't know where to start looking. I smacked my forehead, silently cursing myself for being stupid. I brought absolutely _nothing_ for survival. Oh, well. Other animals survived without things like knives and bottled water. Who said I couldn't?

After I got over the initial kid-in-a-candy-store moment, a faint stench tainted my nostrils. It didn't take a genius to recognize the stench of death. But, there was another scent mixed in with it. It seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it. Part of me wanted to follow the smell. The other part - which, now that I think about it, was probably the more intelligent part - told me to go back into the elevator and pretend I'd never left the hideout. Being a kid - meaning, _way_ too curious for my own good - I went with the first part.

As I followed the smell, I briefly wondered how the none of the patrols hadn't picked it up. Maybe the smell didn't lead to anything worth mentioning. Maybe, they were too focused on their missions to notice it. Or, maybe it hadn't been there at the time.

The stench grew stronger, and the feeling of familiarity did, as well. I stopped. That smell was- I ran toward the source of the smell. I had to know for sure.

The smell was strong, now. And, it was pretty bad. It was coming from a dehydrated bush. I took a peek inside and immediately stepped back. It was just as I'd feared. No, it was worse. I forced myself to take another look.

I don't want to get into detail - mostly because it was pretty gory - but there was a bilby in that bush. A dead bilby. Ripped open. Dead for a day, at least, and barely recognizable. The only giveaways as to who it was were the coloration - gray fur, brown patches, white tip of the tail - the familiarity beyond simply the scent of death, and the knowledge that this was my fault for not going with him.

Rascal was dead. I stumbled away from the corpse and threw up by a rock.

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><p><strong>Originally, I was going to keep Rascal alive and kill him off, later. But, I figured that the more you saw of Rascal, the more attached to him you'd get. Then, I'd have an enormous angry mob after me.<strong>

**Review, while I flee from the medium-sized angry mob!**


	6. Unexpected, yet Completely Expected

**You been watching and waiting. On edge of your seats, anticipating.**

**Sorry. Didn't mean to break into song there.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Unexpected, yet Completely Expected<strong>

Rascal was dead. My best friend was dead. That fact I probably could have handled. But, the image wouldn't leave my mind. Literally _every_ freaking detail was lodged into my brain! Again, gory, don't wanna talk about.

I just sat there, hugging my knees tightly against my chest, as I stared at the bush that reeked of... Well, you know. After a few moments, I lowered my gaze and let my tears fall as they wished.

I rarely cried. When I did, it was rather quietly, border-line silent, except for the occasional sniffle and small catch of breath. This was one of those times. Actually, if memory serves, it was the first time.

I've always been rather hard on myself. If I do something wrong - or something I consider stupid - I can't stop berating myself about it. I don't know why. Maybe I'm a perfectionist. Maybe I'm just insecure. I don't know. All I know is that Rascal would always break me out of my funks.

But, no one was there to help me now.

_You should have gone with him! _I silently scolded myself._ You could have prevented this! But, no! You just _had_ to stay behind, didn't you? Now, your best friend is gone, and it's all your fault!_

I shook my head clear and wiped my eyes on my arm. I had to think about something else.

Why hadn't the patrol brought him back? Probably not the best means of getting my mind off you-know-what, but at least it could distract me from my own self-loathing. So, why hadn't they brought Rascal back to the hideout? It could have been because of how - ahem - mangled the body was. Yes, that was understandable. Also, what exactly happened to Rascal? Did a human get him? That seemed like the only explanation.

Wait a minute.

I forced myself back to the bush, parted its branches, and forced myself to take another look. The adults had mentioned humans using guns as a means of defense. I knew that guns would do more damage than Rascal had taken. And, the body seemed to have... Were those teeth marks?

I turned back around and swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat. What was I thinking? An animal wouldn't have done this. Animals protected each other, no matter the species.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something lunge at me. I instinctively jumped back. My sadness briefly forgotten, I looked over my attacker. It was a type of snake, known as the common death adder. (Nice name, huh?) He was much bigger than me, which I guess was to be expected, with light brown skin that had slightly darker bands on it. He turned around and lunged at me again, jaw outstretched. I barely dodged. Was it trying to eat me, or something? Animals didn't harm other animals!

Right?

Realizing that the snake wasn't giving up, I ran, not wanting to harm a fellow animal. Maybe I'd be able to tire it out? That probably would have worked, had its teeth not grazed my ankle, landing me flat on my back. Blood and pain welled from the wound. The teeth marks were like the ones on Rascal's body, I noticed. Had this crazy snake been the killer?

Suddenly, something grabbed the snake right by his head, making him let out a frustrated curse that people really shouldn't be saying. I blinked in surprise. There appeared to be two metal sticks clasped around the snake. A long, shiny silver rod led to two thicker sticks that were being squeezed by a hairless, pinkish hand (I would later know this device as a snake tong).

I was perplexed by the creature holding the device. It had short black hair on the top of its head and just beneath its nose, gray pelts taking up a large portion of its body, black leather on its feet, and navy blue eyes. The remainder of it was as fleshy as its hand.

I cocked my head in curiosity. I felt like I should have known what it was.

"Don't worry, little fella. You're safe now," it said to me.

The creature was talking in English. We trainees had learned to speak in it, in order to understand the humans.

A lump of fear formed in my throat, and I swallowed it back down. This creature was a _human_! Humans _killed_ animals! So, why was it telling me that I was safe? To deceive me? Or, did it mean that I was safe from the snake?

The human turned its head. "Carl," it called, "get over here."

Another human walked to its partner. This one was shorter, with the same pink, fleshy skin as the first. Unlike the first, it had sand-colored pelts, brown leather on its feet, red-brown hair on its head (but none under its nose), freckles on its cheeks, and dark green eyes that were hidden behind some kind of purple things (I would later know these as glasses).

"What is it, Major Monogram?" Carl asked. He flinched at the sight of the snake. "Great googly moogly!"

Major Monogram narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Carl, that's my line."

"Sorry, sir." Sir? That must have meant that Major Monogram was the leader.

Major Monogram thrust his end of the tongs to his partner. "Go release this snake somewhere."

Carl was cleared afraid of the adder, but hesitantly took the gripped end. "O-okay, but what if it bites me? Aren't these things poisonous?"

"Do you wanna be an intern or not?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then get rid of that thing!"

Carl swallowed. "Y-yes, sir." White-knuckling the tongs, he ran off somewhere.

I stared up at the leader-human. Did he just...save my life? It didn't make any sense. Humans were evil. They destroyed habitats and killed off innocent animals for their own gain, without a second thought. That's why S.T.O.R.M. killed them first. But, this one saved me. And, it didn't tell Carl to kill the snake, just to release it. Everyone affiliated with S.T.O.R.M. knew that humans were evil, but this one obviously was no threat. I mean, why save someone, if you were just going to kill him? And, Carl just seemed a bit skittish, if anything. Still, I remained wary. Mostly of the human, and my bleeding ankle to an extent.

Major Monogram took notice of my injury. "That doesn't look too good."

When he bent down, arms outstretched, I snarled, "I wouldn't, if I were you!" despite knowing that humans couldn't understand animals.

Major Monogram flinched. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a gentler tone. "I just wanna help."

"Well, I don't want your help!" I tried to stand. Pain shot through my ankle, and I bit my lower bill to keep from crying out. I started feeling dizzy from it. I think the leader-human said something, but I couldn't quite make it out. It was too fuzzy. Everything was too fuzzy...

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><p><strong><em>Across the Second Dimension<em>? It showed that Monogram had black hair when Perry was a kid. That's why I used that color.**

**Review!**


	7. Caspian the Capybara

**Lots of dialogue in this chapter. Also lots of information.**

**I don't wanna go back to school tomorrow!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Caspian the Capybara<strong>

I groggily opened my eyes after I-don't-know-how-long. My vision was blurry, and I had to blink a few times to eliminate that problem. After a few moments, my body tensed in anxiety. The way I was feeling was probably something akin to how Dorothy felt upon her arrival in Munchkinland (a little _Wizard of Oz_ for you, there). I assessed my surroundings. The walls were a cream-color - I think I was in a big tent, or something - and I was lying on a metal table, curled up in a tight ball. Had I been asleep? There was a white bandage wrapped around my ankle. I had no idea where it came from or where I was. I tried to stand on two feet, but the attempt made pain shoot out from my ankle and seemingly spread through out my body. It was making me dizzy and a little nauseous, so I sat down.

I gently fingered my bandage, quickly discovering a small spot of blood underneath it, due to my getting bitten. My ankle was a bit swollen, likely the effects of the venom from said adder. Fortunately, being a venomous animal myself, the poison of other species wasn't as lethal to me as it would have been to another animal. It still affected me, though. I was still dizzy, and I smelled something that told me that I'd probably thrown up somewhere nearby. I wiped milk (the platypus-version of sweat) from my brow with the back of my hand, noting that I had a mild fever.

"Mornin' sunshine," a gruff voice said.

I almost growled, but then realized that the voice was an animal's. I turned my head and saw...well, I wasn't quite sure what it was. It was much larger than me - probably because I was still a kid at the time - and had shaggy sand-colored fur, a flat black nose, webbed feet - which told me that the animal was semi-aquatic, like I was - no tail, and dark gray, almost black, eyes. What struck me the most was the thing on its head: a brown thing with a black stripe in the middle.

I must have been staring, because the animal raised an eyebrow. "What? You've never seen a capybara wearing a fedora before?" That was probably the weirdest question I'd ever been asked. I blinked and slowly shook my head. "Yeah, I can tell. Monogram told me what happened. You okay, kid? You've been out cold for, like, ten minutes, give or take."

Monogram? I then remembered the human, who saved me. His name had been Major Monogram, and I assumed this animal was talking about him. Now, to answer the question. Was I okay? The nausea had subsided, but I was still a little light-headed. Then, of course, their was my fever and swollen ankle-

Rascal. Damn it. Thinking of the snake bite led to remembering that gruesome sight. It's funny how your mind can sometimes express its hatred of you by forcing you to remember things you'd rather forget. I wasn't exactly 'okay,' but I was too wary of my current situation to let the animal - apparently called a capybara - know that. I simply shrugged.

The capybara shrugged back. "Eh. I suppose you're better off than that bilby." Bilby? Did he mean who I thought he meant? "I was out earlier, and I saw this bilby-kid getting chased by one of those- Uh, what are they called? Death snakes, or something?" Common death adder, perhaps? "Ah, whatever. I wanted to help the poor kid, but that snake grazed his side and kinda ripped him open." He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "So... Yeah... Not much you can do for someone after that happens. Why am I telling this to a child?"

So, that's what happened to Rascal. _Should have gone with him, stupid!_ Great. There was that berating voice in my head, again. I tried to block it out, by planning my escape. Obviously, standing wasn't an option. Perhaps, if I could find something to use as a crutch-

I flinched when I felt a hand on my forehead. "Well, it seems like your fever's going down," the capybara stated with a small smile, "so that's good news. Ya hungry? Thirsty? Need to puke? Please don't let it be that last one. I don't wanna have to clean up after you again." His joking tone made smile, then he frowned. "I'm serious." I frowned, confused and a little embarrassed. "Ya know, you haven't said one thing, since you came here. You not one for talkin', or something?"

Since I came here? I didn't remember saying anything. Hell, I didn't even remember how I got...where ever I was. "What did I say?" I asked hoarsely.

The capybara shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. You were muttering something about 'Rascal' and 'storms.' What was that about?"

I suppose it was about my grief for my best friend, but storms? Then it hit me. S.T.O.R.M. The Society of Trained Organisms for Ravaging Man. Maybe I was worried about what would happen when Mom found out I'd left? It seemed logical.

I avoided his question. "Why are-" I cleared my throat. "Why are you helping me?"

The capybara shrugged again. "You needed help," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He smiled and puffed out his chest. "When others need help, OWCA will give it to them." He relaxed and frowned. "That's not our motto. I just really feel that way about OWCA."

"Owca?" I queried. "What's Owca?

He smiled again. "The O.W.C.A. Or, the Organization Without a Cool Acronym." I laughed at that. Boy, they weren't kidding! He laughed too. "Yeah, we're aptly named." He can pointed to the thing on his head. "The fedora marks an animal as an agent of OWCA. That's how ya tell who's one of them. I'm probably sharin' more than I should, but you're an animal - and a child, at that - so I doubt anyone'll listen to ya, if ya try to blab about us. Besides, you're in here. Ya may as well know what the deal is." He smacked his forehead. "Dang it. I've been babbling my mouth off, and we don't even know each other's names." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Caspian."

Okay... This guy was kind of freaking me out. I hesitantly shook his hand. "Uh, m-my name's Perry."

"Perry, huh? That's a good name for a platypus." Caspian looked me over and rubbed his chin in thought. "You know...you kinda remind me of an old partner I had on a mission here in the Outback. A fellow agent, named Miles. He was a platypus. Had the same fur as you. Plus though three hairs on your head. What's the purpose of those, anyway?"

What? My father's name was Miles. He and I shared those exact traits. But, the agent thing didn't make sense. Dad worked with S.T.O.R.M.

Or, so I'd been told.

I wanted to question him about that, but I had to play it cool. I still wasn't entirely sure if I should trust this 'OWCA' agent. "Uh, you're using a lot of past tense verbs there. Did something happen to this guy?"

Caspian opened his mouth, but Major Monogram and Carl came into the tent. I death-glared at them, but Caspian saluted at them, which confused me. Why would he salute to humans?

"At ease, Agent C," Major Monogram told Caspian, who was apparently also called 'Agent C,' which did make some sense. Caspian lowered his hand. "Is the platypus any better?" To my surprise, both humans seemed genuinely concerned. Caspian shrugged.

Carl looked sadly at me. "Sorry about your ankle, little guy."

Still wary of the humans, I shrugged, not wanting to give any indication that I was nervous. And, feverish. But, my dizziness was gone, so that was a good sign, right? I subconsciously fingered my bandage-

Something wasn't right. I took a closer look at my bandaged ankle, at the little red stain underneath the gauze. It was right where- No. No, that was ridiculous. There was absolutely no possible way that-

Caspian laughed sheepishly. "So, uh, did I forget ta mention that? Apparently that bite was right where, um... Look, I'm just gonna say it. Kid, your ankle barb's been ripped out."

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><p><strong>*gasp* Oh my God!<strong>

**What do you think of Caspian? I based his character off Stan Pines from _Gravity Falls_. Review!**


	8. Kind of Acting on Impulse

**I would have updated sooner, if it wasn't for school starting back up. Not to mention all the homework I had _already_. Oh, well. I guess that's what happens in your junior year, huh?**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Kind of Acting on Impulse<strong>

Let me explain something. All male platypuses have poisonous barbs on their ankles. The barbs grow in about a week after birth, but they don't become toxic until a few months after that. The venom is extremely powerful and is be fatal to small animals. While it is unlikely to kill humans, it is strong enough to cause a horrible pain to them. Think of it as being stung in the same spot by a hundred hornets.

That's why I was so upset when I discovered that Caspian was right, and I was missing a barb. I hastily checked my other foot, relieved to see that I at least had one ankle barb. I was already at the poisonous age.

I must have looked pretty freaked, because Carl said, "You were right, sir. He really is sentient. And, I guess he _can_ understand us." Most platypuses are rather - dare I say - stupid and don't generally show emotion. "Still, I doubt that he's-"

Major Monogram, an unreadable expression on his face, slapped his hand over Carl's mouth. "Would you excuse us for a minute?"

They stepped out of the tent, and I fingered my bandage again. One barb down. I'd have to be extra careful not to lose my other one. I think Caspian said something, but I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to hear him. I was still reeling from the day's events.

Caspian squeezed my shoulder. "You okay, kid?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. This is just... It-it's a lot to take in." Caspian nodded in understanding. A thought occurred to me. "Caspian, why did he call you Agent C?"

"'Cause I work for him," he said simply.

It wasn't very simple for me. Animals working for humans? That didn't make any sense. Except... "Uh, y-you were talking about what happened to Miles the Platypus?"

Caspian looked confused for a moment, then his face lit up in remembrance. "Oh, yeah, that. Before we get to that, I should probably ask you somethin'. Kid, are you member of STORM?" My heart almost stopped. "Monogram noticed your sentience, so he wanted me to find out if you were with STORM. That's why I told you so much about OWCA. To see if it rang a bell at all. I mean, STORM is pure evil, and it's OWCA's biggest threat, so..."

I had never heard of OWCA. Of course, it sounded like it would have been something I'd have learned about after my training. But, if it was an enemy of STORM, then I couldn't let this agent know I was one of them. I shook my head. "I've never even heard of either of those before you told me about them."

He looked me over, and I could tell he was trying to decide whether or not I was lying. Well, I was half-lying. Obviously, I knew about STORM. Apparently believing me - I was an excellent lier - he nodded. "Okay. Now, about Miles. I don't know _exactly_ what happened to him, but I've heard some things. I hear he had a kid with STORM's leader - I think her name's Patricia, or somethin' - and she found out he was in OWCA. Not sure what happened after that, though... Ah, well. I'm sure it was nothin' to terrible-"

I stopped listening. Patricia was my mother. Miles was my father. I was the kid. My father worked with OWCA. With _humans_. What did it mean? My head started to hurt. It was all too much. Rascal's death, my own near-death experience, this whole OWCA-thing, my own father working with humans. It was nearly impossible to wrap my mind around. But, when I did think about it... Major Monogram and Carl were humans. They didn't try to hurt me, like I'd been taught that they'd do. They had saved me.

I think I interrupted him, but I didn't care at the moment. "Caspian, are humans nice?" He seemed a little suspicious at the question, like he thought I was asking because of what STORM teaches you. "I've just never seen a human before those two, and I'm curious if the other ones are nice." Not a lie.

Caspian relaxed at my clarification. "Well, it's true that there are a lot of nice humans out there. It's also true that there are a lot of bad ones. What OWCA does is take the bad ones down a notch and keep them from causing any trouble."

"So, you work with humans to fight evil?" I summarized.

"Pretty much."

"Are there any other animals in OWCA?"

"Heck, yeah. In fact, OWCA is about eighty percent animal agents."

"Can I join?" I almost flinched at my own question.

Caspian seemed as surprised as I was. "Uh, I'll have to check with Monogram. He's kinda my boss. I'll, uh, I'll be right back." He left me to my thoughts.

I had absolutely no idea why I asked that. Join STORM's enemy? Turn my back on everything I'd been brought up on?

But...when I thought about it, could I really continue my life with STORM? After I was rescued by humans, could I ever kill one in cold blood? Moreover, my gut was telling me that Caspian was telling me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That humans could be good. Although, I wasn't entirely convinced about STORM being 'pure evil,' I didn't think that I could continue being a part of them.

Or, maybe I was just being a naïve child. Either way, it seemed like hours before Caspian and the humans came back in, even though I knew it was only a few minutes.

Major Monogram knelt down to look at me at eye-level. "So, Perry - Agent C told us your name, by the way - you want to join the O.W.C.A.?"

I found myself slightly intimidated by his unreadable gaze. I looked to Caspian for support. He gave me a thumbs-up. Hoping I looked more confident than I felt, I nodded at the human.

He nodded back. "Okay." He stood upright. "You _can_ understand me, right?" I rolled my eyes and nodded. I assumed it was obvious. "Just clarifying."

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><p>Caspian told me that the huge contraption was called a 'plane.' He explained that he and several other members of OWCA were only in Australia for research. When I asked about the 'research,' he said that it was classified, so I didn't question him any further on the subject. The plane was apparently taking us to some place called 'Danville.' Since animals weren't allowed on a certain part of the plane, I was stuck in a crate in the cargo, along with the other animals. "Can't let people know we're anthropomorphic," Caspian had told me. I went along with it, after questioning what 'anthropomorphic' meant. Apparently, OWCA was a secret organization, and no one wanted to attract attention with personified animals.<p>

I thought about the situation I'd gotten myself into. I was leaving the Outback, heading to some place I knew nothing about, with animals I barely knew anything about. I really needed to stop acting on impulse. Oh, well. There was no turning back now. Still, we'd just taken off, and I already felt homesick.

The cargo room wasn't very big, so none of us could get out of our crates and move around. At least, we could all chat amongst ourselves. Well, the agents chatted. I just listened to see if I could learn anything else about what I was going to be dealing with. Unfortunately, most of the conversations were about the complete lack of elbow we had, comments about everyone's bosses - which led to some of the agents snickering - and things in that nature. On the bright side, I no longer felt sick.

Caspian was in a crate nearby and tried to introduce me to some of the other agents, so I felt a little better, knowing that I wasn't being totally ignored. Although, it was kind of hard to learn names when you were all squished together and couldn't really see anyone very well.

Deciding that mingling was futile, I tried to get some sleep, which was hard when you were trapped in an uncomfortable crate, with so much on your mind, surrounded by chattered secret agents.

This was gonna be a _long_ flight.

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><p><strong>I'm a little unsure about this chapter, but I think it came out okay. Review!<strong>


	9. Welcome to Danville

**Okay, this one's, like, half-description and half-dialogue.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Welcome to Danville<strong>

To say that I was nervous would be an understatement. I was terrified, upon our arrival in Danville. Caspian tried to make the transition as comfortable for me as he could, which I appreciated, despite the fact that it wasn't really working. Still, I felt a little better with him around. I'm still not exactly sure why. He just had a certain...air about him. Or, perhaps it had something to do with my growing up without a father. Either way, I was grateful for his presence.

He, Major Monogram, Carl, and I rode in a 'car,' as I was told it was called, to the O.W.C.A. Headquarters. I didn't really pay much attention to the chatter of the humans, due to my fascination with all the new sights. There were a variety of strange and almost cartoonish things, such as a towering, purple building (which I would eventually become quite familiar with) and - likely the weirdest thing in Danville - a head of a human infant, which was _huge_ and _floated_. I had whimpered in fear at the sight, but Caspian had just laughed and said, "Welcome to Danville. Population: Insanity." He had then started into a story about a mission, where he encountered 'Klimpaloon, the Magical Old-Timey Bathing Suit that Lives in the Himalayas.' If I hadn't seen that baby head, I would have questioned how true his story was.

There were also a variety of humans in the city, and that worried me a little, but then I remembered that humans had saved my life. Even so, the new environment would take _a lot_ of getting used to.

The O.W.C.A. Headquarters was nowhere near as hidden or secretive as I thought it would be. For Heaven's sake, the sign in front of the build read, 'OWCA Secret Headquarters (Pay no attention to this sign).' I asked Caspian about it, but he said that he was just as confused as I was. Once again, I questioned how I could have been dumb enough to get myself mixed up in all this.

_No going back now_, I reminded myself. _May as well just swallow that homesickness and tackle whatever's coming your way._

Due to the possibility of anyone finding this journal, I will not disclose the events that occurred upon our arrival at the major's office. However, I will mention that I went through several physical trials and a mental acuity test, while Caspian went to battle someone named Dr. Roddenstein. I passed both tests with flying colors. Major Monogram and Carl were clearly surprised at my test results, and both of them seemed more than a little suspicious. Nevertheless, they accepted me. They said that, if Agent C trusted me, then they'd take their chances. Caspian must have been a respectable agent.

Again, I will not disclose any top-secret information, nor anything that may be harmful to the agency, if fallen into the wrong hands. This includes the location of the Academy Without a Cool Acronym (A.W.C.A.) and what the campus looks like. Basically, it was like a boarding school for secret agents in training. Apparently, that was where animals went after passing the same tests that I had to take. What happens to animals beforehand is also classified.

Well, I suppose it wasn't entirely like a boarding school. While animals lived there during their training, there were no classrooms or anything of the sort. Instead, animals were given mentors, who would teach them to fight and behave as an ordinary animal - for going undercover. I was anxious to find out who my mentor would be, but Caspian said I'd probably have to wait until tomorrow. He said I was 'kind of unexpected,' which made sense, I suppose.

My dorm room wasn't too different from my room back in STORM, just more friendly looking, with cream-colored walls and a tiled floor as opposed to cold stone. Caspian said that there was someone living in this room besides me, so I sat on the bed and waited. My mind kept wandering to those back in STORM. They would have given up searching for me a long time ago. My heart wrenched at how worried they must have been. I didn't know what the hell I was thinking, coming all the way to America.

The door opened, and I stood up and tried to look friendly. There was a rather surprised dog at the door. He looked nothing like the wild dogs in Australia. He was about my height and age, and he had short, cream-colored fur that was slightly darker than the walls, pointed ears, and dark blue eyes. What struck me the most was how thin he was and how much he was shaking. Perhaps he was sick?

Not too keen on the awkward silence, I greeted, "Uh, g'day. I-I'm your new roommate."

He smiled and closed the door. He spoke with an accent I'd never heard before. "Hola! Como te llamas?" At my blank expression, he laughed and translated, "Hello! What's your name?"

"Oh! My-my name's Perry."

He grabbed my hand with both of his and shook mine too hard. "Me llamo- I mean, my name is Pinky!" He let go of my hand, which was now a little sore. "You'll have to excuse me. Sometimes I speak Spanish without thinking." Spanish. So that was what all that gibberish was called.

Pinky shook some more, prompting me to ask, "Are you cold or something?"

He seemed puzzled, then he said a drawn out, "Oh..." in realization. He smiled and shook his head. "No, no. I'm fine. Shivering is perfectly natural for my breed. I'm a chihuahua. No one told me I was getting a roommate."

I frowned at that. "I-I'm sorry to barge in-"

"No! You're not barging in. I'm actually quite pleased. It gets lonely in here, sometimes."

"I guess it would."

"I like your accent." He tilted his head. "Where are you from?"

I smiled shyly. "The Outback." At his blank expression, I clarified, "That's in Australia."

"Oh, cool! I came here with my madre, my four hermanas and their owners. Uh, madre means mother, by the way. And, hermanas means sisters."

The mention of his mother made me homesick again, but I'm certain I didn't show it. "Four sisters?" I laughed at the thought.

Pinky suddenly seemed wistful. "Yeah. Fueron maravillosos. Cuánto los quiero a los días en que-"

I waved my hands frantically in front of me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I have no idea what you're saying."

"M-my apologies. When I get wistful, I rant in Spanish. I just meant that I miss them." I was about to ask if something happened to them, but I stopped myself. It would be weird to someone about personal matters, if the two of you just met. Despite this, he seemed keen on talking. "Long story short, mi hermanas and I... well were put up for adoption, and a nice woman named Admiral Acronym picked me out of the bunch." He grinned and spread his hands out, indicating the building. "That's how I wound up here." Admiral Acronym must have worked with the agency. "So, what's your story?" I stiffened. I couldn't tell him about STORM, but I didn't have a different story prepared. Pinky shrugged. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. We all have our little secrets."

I gave a sheepish laugh, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yes. Yes, we do..."

Pinky seemed to have sensed my discomfort. "Sorry, Perry. I realize I'm talking too much. We just haven't had any new guys in a while, and I'm excited." He pursed his 'lips.' "You know, there's another platypus on campus."

I tilted my head. "Oh?"

Pinky nodded. "Uh-huh. Her name's McKenzie. She's really fun. And, since your both platypuses...you'll either be best friends, or you'll want to rip each other's throats out."

Personally, I was rooting for the first one.

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><p><strong>We've met Pinky, and McKenzie will be in the next chapter, along with some other future agents. Review!<strong>


	10. Utterly Awkward

**This chapter is kinda short and dialogue-based. I hope that's not a problem.**

**Warning: Awkward scenarios ahead.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Utterly Awkward<strong>

Pinky led me to a room not far from ours, and the first thing I heard from said room was a girl shouting, "Give it back, you bastard!"

The next thing I knew, a black and white bear was running out of the room, a platypus was chasing after him. Not long after, she tackled him to the ground.

I had absolutely no idea how to react, but Pinky sighed and rolled his eyes. "They do this, sometimes." He ran to the group, and I followed. Pinky cried out, "Dividirla! Dividirla!" (I now know that 'dividirla' means 'break it up' in Spanish.) With some help from me, we managed to pulled the two of them apart.

Now, that I got a better look at the platypus, I realized that we looked next to nothing alike (at that point, I had only ever seen green or teal platypuses). She had brown fur, a gray bill and tail, bangs, and blue eyes. If she didn't look ready to tear someone's limbs off, I probably would have found her attractive.

She pointed angrily at the bear. "Peter! Hand it over."

The bear - apparently named Peter - crossed his arms in defiance. I suddenly noticed that he was holding a purple book. He turned his head. "Make me."

"Oh, I'm gonna make you!" The platypus tried to attack him, but Pinky grabbed her shoulders.

"Calm yourself, McKenzie!" Pinky ordered.

So, this girl was McKenzie? I briefly wondered whether she was hot-tempered or Peter had just _really_ ticked her off.

Pinky immediately turned to Peter and demanded, "Peter, give her back her diary."

Oh. That explained it. One of the girls back in STORM had a diary. Rascal had learned the hard way not to touch it. Apparently, women wrote their thoughts and secrets in them...or something. I didn't really see the point.

Peter rolled his gray eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. If you're gonna bug me about it." He reluctantly handed McKenzie the diary, which she snatched and held protectively against her chest, still obviously fuming. "I don't see what the big deal is. It's a book with words."

"These _words_ are for _my eyes only_," McKenzie warned.

"Yeah, yeah." Peter casually headed down the hall, eventually entering a room that I assumed was his own.

Well...that happened. I wasn't sure how to respond. It was just too awkward.

Pinky cleared his throat, and I couldn't tell whether he was bored or annoyed. Or, perhaps a mixture of both. "Perry, this is McKenzie. And, the other guy was Peter the Panda."

McKenzie, seeming to have calmed down, sized me up. Now that she wasn't about to kill someone, she was definitely pretty. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her bill. "Sorry you had to see that. Peter and I..." She through her hands down in exasperation. "Basically, we don't exactly 'get along.'"

I stopped myself from taking a step back. "S-so I see... I-I'm Perry."

She smiled, but I couldn't tell whether it was sincere or not. "And, I'm McKenzie. Or, Mack. I answer to both."

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><p>Once we were back in our dorm, Pinky informed me that McKenzie wasn't always so...like she was. Apparently, her and Peter used to date, but it (obviously) didn't end well. He also explained the McKenzie was indeed a little temperamental, but it wasn't usually that bad.<p>

"She's bad at first impressions," Pinky told me, as we sat on the edge of his bed. "When I first met her, she tripped and fell on me, and we accidentally kissed." I laughed at that. And, I thought _my_ first meeting with her was awkward. "I know, right? Although, the fact that a hot girl kissed me kinda dulled the awkwardness."

I shrugged. "I can see how that would work."

There was a loud bang on the door. Pinky suddenly and repeatedly piped up, "Door!" as he ran to the door.

After what I believe was the eighth 'door' I had to ask, "What are you doing?"

Pinky blushed in embarrassment. "Uh, s-sorry." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm a dog, so when I hear a knock at the door, I feel compelled to announce it."

Caspian stepped into the room. "How's it goin', kids?"

Surprised and a little annoyed, I asked, "Why would you knock, if you were just gonna barge in?"

He seemed confused for a moment, then he seemed to realize what I was talking about. "Oh! I wasn't knocking. I was just popping my shoulder back into its socket." He rolled back his shoulders for emphasis. "Long story short, Rodney's pretty good in a fight." Remember when I mentioned Dr. Roddenstein? Well, most people call him Rodney. "But, that ain't why I'm here. I got some good news for you, Perry. At least, I hope it's good news to you."

Pinky asked my question for me. Well, he asked it in Spanish. "Que es?"

I was confused, but Caspian seemed to understand. "I'll tell ya what it is. Perry, who's got no thumbs and is gonna be your mentor?" He pointed to himself. "This guy!"

Caspian being my O.W.C.A. mentor? I felt strangely happy at the thought. Sure, he was a little eccentric, but he seemed really nice.

"The look on your face tells me that you find this to be good news," he stated happily.

Pinky grinned, and his tail wagged in excitement. "Good for you, Perry! Agent C es muy div- Is very fun!"

Caspian laughed. "Hey, Perry, if your gonna be stuck livin' with the Mexican, you should probably learn his language."

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><p><strong>This chapter didn't turn out quite like I wanted it to, but it isn't too bad. At least, I don't think it is. Review, but don't flame.<strong>


	11. Invitations

**I was thinking of putting a song in this chapter...but then I didn't. :P**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Invitations<strong>

Eventually, I managed to get used to the A.W.C.A. Pinky started teaching me Spanish. McKenzie and I had become good friends. Some of the other students had started giving me some...strange looks, and that made me a little uncomfortable, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

Caspian was a pretty good mentor, but I quickly discovered that I already knew about a lot of the attacks he tried to teach me. I noticed that he seemed a little disappointed when I could already use a move, but it didn't take long for me to discover why. He was eager to teach me. He wanted to be responsible for my success, and I found that admirable. Were I in his position, I would have been fine with an apprentice who could do everything I wanted him to. Caspian, however, craved the pride of me becoming an agent _because of him_. So, I decided to pretend to not know how to do things, just to see his face light up at the opportunity to 'teach' me how to do those things properly.

I barely thought about STORM. I was too preoccupied with my new home, with my new friends. Not to mention everything I was learning about humans and how to behave around certain ones. (I found the idea of acting like a 'mindless animal' to be somewhat demeaning, but I grew to accept it.) Carl came by once to check on the progress of the trainees. He was astounded by my performance - despite being the newest recruit, I was far ahead of the others - and I was happy to let Caspian take the credit for my skills. He _had_ taught me a thing or two, after all. Major Monogram came once, too. He seemed impressed, yet still a little suspicious. I guess he still wasn't too sure whether I was a member of STORM, and I couldn't blame him. Afterall, platypuses don't generally do much of anything.

Of course, there _was_ that nightmare that came every now and then. I can't remember it very well (not that I ever could), but I know it was about STORM discovering that I'd joined forces with their enemy. I do recall that I was beaten, cut, and just plain broken in the dream, and I'd wake up shaking more than Pinky. Speaking of Pinky, he would try to calm me down and ask me about my nightmare. I would just tell him that I couldn't remember it, which wasn't a total lie.

Overall, though, things were pretty good.

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><p>"Caspian says that he's planning an expedition of some kind," I told McKenzie. "He thinks I'm ready to 'get out there and do something.'"<p>

She and I were outside, behind the A.W.C.A. It was a routine we'd formed after a while. We'd come out here after training and talk or whatever we felt like doing.

McKenzie smirked in disbelief, as she leaned coolly against the side of the building. "Yeah, right. I've been here longer than you have, and I've never gone on any kind of adventure."

I shrugged and smiled. "You might be coming with us. Caspian said that Peaches was asking if she could come along." Peaches the Hamster was McKenzie's mentor.

A smile broke out on McKenzie's face, showing her perfect teeth. "That would _so_ cool! You, me, an unknown territory. Oh, and some adults, too." She stood up straight and pointed at me in mock accusation. "You better not show me up."

I laughed. "Don't get cocky, yet. They still have to run it by the major." I was referring to Major Monogram.

"He'll say yes. I'm sure of it. And, when he does, you better not do anything better than me."

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Please. Do you honestly think I'll be bested by a _girl_?

If I hadn't been joking about that, I probably would have been strangled; McKenzie hated sexism with a burning passion. She spoke with a slight warning in her tone. "If anyone else said that, I wouldn't put up with it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "If you say so." She laughed too. "You know, you're really pretty."

She looked at me, like I'd just turned purple. "W-what did you say?"

Why was she so surprised at my comment? "I said, 'you're really pretty.'" I shrugged, not seeing what the big deal was. "Is it so wrong for a guy to compliment someone?"

"Uh, n-no. No, it isn't." She still seemed flustered. "Y-you just kinda caught me off-guard. I mean, th-thank you, but it was kinda random, don't you think?"

I considered the question. "I don't know. I guess. You just looked really nice, when you were laughing, and I felt like mentioning it. N-not that you don't look nice any other time. I just-"

"I-I know what you mean."

A teasing voice came from nearby. "Am I interrupting something?"

Dennis the Rabbit strolled over, looking rather amused. He had snow-white fur, ears that always hung down, and dark blue - almost black - eyes that always held a bit of mischief in them. Dennis and I didn't talk often, but I liked him, and he seemed to like me too.

McKenzie rolled her eyes, which I'd just noticed held flecks of silver. "We weren't being romantic."

Dennis smirked. "Yes, because saying a girl's pretty is quite common among acquaintances. But, that's not why I'm here." He turned his gaze to me. "Perry, you're the new guy, and I'd like to invite you to a little something."

I furrowed my brow in confusion, but I heard McKenzie pipe up, "Is it Never-Ever?"

Dennis clicked his tongue and pointed at her. "Bingo, Mack."

"Never-Ever?" I repeated. "What's that?"

"Mack'll give you the details," Dennis stated vaguely. "In my room. Tonight at eight. I hope you guys decide to show up." At that explanation - if you could even call it that - he returned to the inside of the Academy.

McKenzie must have sensed my confusion. "Never-Ever is this game that his older brother made up," she explained. "It's sort of a get-to-know-you sort of thing. Basically, we sit in a circle and take turns saying 'Never have I ever...' whatever you've never done."

I wasn't sure how to feel about that game. It sounded interesting, yet, at the same time, it almost sounded like an invasion of privacy.

"You'll like it," she continued. "Trust me."

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><p><strong>Peaches is a Syrian hamster I had a few years ago. I put her in the story!<strong>

**I'll be perfectly honest; I do not own Never-Ever. That said, if you tell me the book and-or the author it came from, I'll give you a shout-out in the next chapter.**


	12. Never-Ever

**Boo! No one gets the shout-out! Never-Ever comes from Lauren Kate's _Teardrop_.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Never-Ever<strong>

Pinky's boundless enthusiasm was becoming painful. Literally. He was half-leading, half-pulling me to Dennis' room, and I think he was trying to yank my arm off in the process. Or, at least dislocate my shoulder. We were going to be arriving 'fashionably early,' as Pinky put it. I thought that arriving fifteen minutes early to some teenage...thing was a little absurd, but I went along with it. Mostly because Pinky was so eager to get going; he had been invited, as well. I, myself, was more nervous than excited. This would be my first social event - for lack of a better term.

Upon our arrival, Pinky banged loudly on the door. (Part of me was surprised he didn't start barking.) Dennis opened it up and flashed a small smile. "Fashionably early, Pinky?"

Pinky nodded enthusiastically. "I was excited! I think Perry is too!"

I scratched the back of my neck, not making eye contact. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

Dennis laughed. "Don't be nervous. This is all in good fun. Come on in."

During time we waited for the other guests to arrive, Dennis asked me a lot of questions about how I was adjusting to the Academy. When I mentioned the trip Caspian was planning, Dennis seemed quite surprised. "You're doing something cool _already_?"

I shrugged at the comment, completely avoiding the whole truth. "I'm a fast learner." Not a lie.

Dennis nodded. "Clearly."

Pinky's tail wagged. "If Major Monogram approves it, I want you to bring me back a souvenir of some kind."

Eventually, a few more guests arrived. Of course, the only ones I knew were McKenzie and Peter. It was a small crowd, no more than ten trainees. I assumed that Dennis had only picked his closest friends or something along those lines. We all sat Indian-style on the floor in a circle with the lights turned off, and two candles in the middle of the room (for dramatic effect, I suppose).

Dennis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Okay. Looks like everyone's here. Why don't we start with introductions?" Dennis pointed at me with both hands, and I grew self-conscious, as everyone turned to look at me. "That there is the new guy, Perry the Platypus."

I hesitantly waved at the others. "Yeah. Hi."

Dennis folded his hands in his lap. "So, Perry, what have you never done before? Remember to begin your answer with 'Never have I ever.'"

"Hm..." I pondered the question. There were a lot of things I'd never done: explore Danville, find out what humans outside the agency were like. _Become a soldier of STORM_. I pushed that thought away. This was my home now. I'd learned the truth: STORM was evil. They killed others in cold blood. There was no forgiving that. Realizing that everyone was still waiting for my answer, I said, "Never have I ever...sung in a spontaneous musical number." Believe it or not, Danville was full of spontaneous musical numbers. To this day, I don't understand why.

Dennis chuckled. "Stay here in Danville, and you will. I'll go next. You all know who I am." He tapped his chin in thought. "Let's see... Never have I ever...been rejected by a girl I liked."

Two gerbils - the only girls there, besides McKenzie - giggled. I got the feeling that Dennis was a bit of a lady's man.

McKenzie rolled her eyes. "Okay, he's dreamy. We get it." Her voice portrayed no interest in the rabbit, but I caught the admiring look in her eyes. "I'm McKenzie, and never have I ever, um...lost my virginity." The others exchanged surprised looks, prompting McKenzie to grow defensive. "What? Not every teenager has to have sex, you know."

Dennis cut her a sidelong look. "Chill, Mack. We're just goofing around."

The gerbils went next. They both had beige-colored fur, but one of them had brown patches. The one with brown patches spoke first and with much enthusiasm. "I'm Cookie! Never have I ever," she put her arm around the other gerbil, "gone longer than a couple hours without my twin sister!"

The other gerbil - apparently her sister - spoke in the same happy tone and hugged Cookie. "My name's Cream! My Never-Ever is the same!"

Cookie and Cream? I would've laughed at that, if I wasn't so confused. Those two didn't strike me as people Dennis would hang out with.

Speaking of Dennis, he sighed and shook his head with obvious annoyance. "They wouldn't stop bugging me, until I invited them." I smiled in amusement.

This went on for around five or so more minutes. We all took turns saying things we've never done, and I got to meet some new people. I was actually starting to enjoy myself.

Until...

"Never have I ever..." Peter looked at me with a venomous smirk. My gut was telling me that something bad was about to happen. "Never have I ever been involved with the Society of Trained Organisms for Ravaging Man."

My gut was right. I froze. I didn't know how to respond to that. Did he know? It seemed like he knew. A lump of dread pitted in my stomach, as I realized that the other trainees - minus Dennis, McKenzie, and Pinky - were whispering and glancing at me. Oh God. Oh freaking God, they knew. Pinky sat there in shock. McKenzie grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as she... Well, let's just say that if looks could kill, Peter would be a lifeless heap on the floor. As for Dennis, he stood up and grabbed Peter by the scruff.

"Hey, what gives?" Peter protested as he was lifted up. If Dennis was taller, he probably would have hoisted the panda over his shoulder. "We all know that Perry's a member, right? Right? No?"

I could practically feel the anger vibrating off Dennis. "You know what your problem is, Pete? You're too quick to judge. Perry's no more STORM than you and me."

Peter crossed his arms in defiance. "How do you know? I mean, the evidence is there. Think about it. He just started here, and he's _already_ ahead of us-"

A low growl interrupted him. It took me a moment to realize that the growl was coming from Pinky, who stood up, pointed angrily at Peter, snarled something in Spanish. From the looks of things I wasn't the only one who didn't understand him. Pinky smacked his forehead and said, "Forget the translation. Someone just get Peter out of here!"

"Gladly." Dennis harshly ushered a protesting Peter out the door. After slamming it shut, he asked Pinky, "What did you say, anyway?"

Pinky suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "I may have...cursed a little..."

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><p>Dennis asked me if I wanted to leave. Since I figured that leaving would make me seem guilty, I said I would stay. We tried to continue as though nothing happened, but it was hard with everyone casting nervous looks at me. Even Cookie and Cream seemed to have lost some of their luster. In general, the jovial atmosphere had faded. Especially for me. They knew I was from STORM. I refused to let my anxiety show, refused to give them the satisfaction of being right. Even if they <em>were<em> right.

Eventually, the awkwardness in the room became too much, and Dennis said, "Well, this is getting weird," and called off the game. He pulled me back as I tried to leave. No one seemed to notice. The visible compassion in his eyes made part of me feel a little better. Yet, the other part of me wasn't exactly a fan of being pitied. "Don't let Peter get to you. He's just an ass."

"Then why did you invite him?" I asked.

Dennis' blush was more prominent because of his short, snow-white fur. "He...bribed me with carrots..." Is it me, or was that _really_ cliché? "The-the point is that the whole STORM-thing is some damn rumor. I don't who started it, but I'm certain that it's not true."

"It's not," I lied.

He offered a small smile. "Just don't let Peter get to you, and you'll be fine."

I forced a smile. "Th-thanks."

He winked. "No sweat."

Pinky and McKenzie, both clearly concerned, were waiting for me in the hall. Pinky asked me in Spanish if I was okay, and he perked up a little when I said in Spanish that I was. It was a lie. I was freaked. People clearly thought that the rumor was true, and they were right. McKenzie asked if I wanted her to 'annihilate' Peter, to which I laughed and declined her offer. Surprisingly, that wasn't a lie. I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me, and I knew McKenzie would have loved to beat Peter up. (I found it hard to believe that the two had ever dated.)

We headed back to our rooms in silence, and McKenzie held my hand the entire time. When we reached mine and Pinky's room, I asked her about it, to which she shrugged and replied, "You looked like you needed it."

I did need it. I still did. Her hand in mine had spread a warmth through my chest. A warmth that I really liked, even though I didn't quite understand it. I was actually sad to see her go back to her room. I involuntarily sighed, closed the door, and turned around to find Pinky looking sadly at me.

"Don't worry about the rumors, amigo," Pinky told me. "I'm sure Peter's the only one who believes them."

I wished that I could have said the same thing. Something was telling me that there was a reason the students looked at me like they were afraid of me. It had been happening a lot, and now I knew why.

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><p><strong>Let's see...Peter's aan *insert curse word here*, Dennis seems nice enough, and Perry is worried (but who wouldn't be in his situation). Oh yeah, and you all are gonna review. I hope.**


	13. The Expedition

**The part with the blindfolds is from the _Gravity Falls_ episode, "The Legend of the Gobblewonker."**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: The Expedition<strong>

After the whole Never-Ever incident, I tried to act like everything was normal. But, that was hard with everyone looking at me. Some of them looked curious, some bewildered, and some - the worst - scared. Granted, the scared looks came the least often, but they hurt the most. My friends tried to help me out. Pinky growled at anyone who tried to question me about STORM, which happened more often than you may think, McKenzie threatened to punch one guy (and probably would have, if I hadn't intervened), and Dennis just stuck by me and reminded me to ignore the rumors.

Easier said than done.

Fortunately, I'd been given something else to think about; Major Monogram had approved of the expedition, and McKenzie and Peaches got to come with us. That's why we were all in Caspian's faded blue hover jet. I believe his exact words were, "Now, who wants to put on a blindfold and get into my hover jet?"

So, McKenzie and I were blindfolded - against our will, I might add - and seated in the back of the hover jet, while our mentors - not blindfolded, thank God - were up front, Caspian at the wheel. The two were currently bickering about the blindfolds. Peaches thought that it was completely ridiculous, and Caspian simply wanted to surprise us with the location of our little trip. I agreed with Peaches. McKenzie and I didn't really speak during the ride. We just listened to those two argue like an old married couple. It was surprisingly cute.

I was relieved when we'd arrived and could take off our blindfolds. Caspian opened the hover jet's door so that McKenzie's mentor could climb out. Peaches was a Syrian hamster with dark tan fur and a white band around her torso. Even at about five inches, everyone knew that she was a force to be reckoned with.

As for where we were...

"A cave?" I asked in confusion.

McKenzie crossed her arms. "What are you playing at, Caspian?"

"Trust me." Caspian rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The look on his face told me he was up to something. "This is no ordinary cave."

"Caspian, don't try to mess them up," Peaches warned with a light Southern accent.

"I'm not gonna mess them up." Caspian coughed out, "_Much_." He cleared his throat, as Peaches smacked her forehead. "You see, kids, this ain't no ordinary cave. Word has it there's a treasure in here somewhere."

Treasure? I was intrigued, but I had my doubts. "Is that true?"

Caspian shrugged. "Not sure, but it'll be cool to find out!"

I was thankful for our flashlights. With out them, it would have been impossible to navigate through the cave. The cool temperature of the ending winter didn't help the chilly air in the cave, and it took me and McKenzie a while to realize that we were close enough to just brush against each other's shoulders. Close enough to feel each other's body heat. My heart started pounding, and my face grew hot with embarrassment, but if McKenzie noticed our brief touch, she didn't show it.

Uncomfortable with the silence, I coughed and asked, "So, Caspian, how did you find this place, anyway?"

Caspian smiled briefly at me over his shoulder. "Ah, an excellent question. A few weeks ago, my nemesis, Rodney, had an evil scheme not to far from here. I was gonna scope the place out myself, but I figured you were ready for a real adventure, Perry. That's what brought us here, today."

I heard something. It sounded like...flapping? "Do you guys hear that?" I asked.

We stopped walking. The sound came again. McKenzie shined her flashlight towards the ceiling, which was where the sound was coming from. I couldn't see her face, but I heard the slight fear in her voice when she muttered, "Oh, damn."

I looked up. A knot of fear formed in my stomach. "Damn, indeed."

"Don't worry," Peaches whispered. "They're just bats. They only eat bugs."

"The hamster is right," Caspian agreed. "You kids just relax."

Relax? There were _hundreds_ of freaking bats on the ceiling! I, personally, had a little difficulty relaxing. Especially, since my gut was, once again, warning me that something bad was going to happen. McKenzie grabbed my hand, filling me with a pleasant warmth that helped me calm down a little. I saw fear in her silver-flecked eyes.

Peaches' voice broke me out of the trance I hadn't realized I'd slipped into. "As long as we remain quiet, they won't bother us. So, we have to keep our voices down."

A loud noise echoed through the cave. The bats flew around in a frenzy. The force of them was too great, and I was knocked on to my bum. I tried to listen for my companions, but all I could hear was the panicked screeching of the bats. (I _swear_ one of them shouted, "My watermelon!") I gripped a stalagmite and used it to pull myself up. Just as I'd stood up, the bats were gone. Or, at least, they'd stopped panicking.

Peaches stood up, her small frame leaving her in the best shape of any of us. "Is everyone okay?"

Caspian was lying against a wall, rubbing his head. "I think so."

He stood up, as McKenzie dusted herself off. "Me too."

Relief washed over me. "Looks like no one's hurt too badly."

"Yep," Peaches agreed, picking her light brown fedora up off the ground and placing back on her head. "That could have been way worse."

I picked up my flashlight and shined it at the ceiling. The bats were gone. Suddenly, it clicked in me. I didn't like that. "That was a gunshot."

McKenzie tilted her head and gave me a curious look. "What?"

"That noise that scared the bats. That was a gunshot."

Caspian adjusted his fedora. His expression wasn't alarmed, just confused. "I think you're right, kid."

Peaches seemed equally puzzled. "But, why would anyone fire a gun in _here_? There's nothing to shoot. Unless you count bats and bugs."

She had a point. It didn't really make sense. Still, I was certain that I'd heard a gun being fired. Caspian looked from me to McKenzie, and his expression softened. "You kids wanna head back?"

Part of me wanted to do just that. But...we'd already come this far. Why quit? I was about to voice my opinion, but McKenzie voiced her own. "_What_? Are you friggin' kidding me?" She asked incredulously. "We are _not_ babies. We can handle this."

Peaches rocked on her feet. "We don't wanna risk anything."

I smiled in determination. "We can take it." Just to prove it, I walked on ahead.

Caspian placed his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. To surprise, he was smiling. "Ya got moxie, kid. I like that." I returned the smile. He walked in front of me.

Amusement widened my smile, when Peaches asked incredulously, "You mean, we're _not_ getting the rookies out of here?"

While McKenzie and Caspian seemed pleased with my determination, Peaches acted like she was unhappy with us. However, I could see the pride shining in her dark brown eyes. She and Caspian were glad that McKenzie and I weren't backing down. Although, I'll admit that I was a little on edge from hearing that gun shot. A feeling of danger lurked in my mind, and I remained cautious.

What we found was not what I'd expected.

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><p><strong>Did I really just leave it at that? Yes. Yes, I did. :P<strong>

**Review!**


	14. My Dark Side

**Perry may seem a little OOC in this chapter. It depends on how you look at it. I don't think he's too OOC, but that's my opinion.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: My Dark Side<strong>

Caspian turned a corner, and I heard a startled, "Whoa, man! Whatcha doin'?"

The rest of us followed and found my mentor with a gun pointing at his face. And, it was much closer to his face than was necessary. The holder of the weapon was a large black bat that was standing on the ground, holding his gun with his wing. His bright green eyes were shrouded in hatred, and I briefly wondered what Caspian had done to piss him off so badly.

I tried to say something helpful, something that might distract the bat. I opened my mouth, but all that came out was, "Well, that happened." (Lately, I'd been saying it so much that it was starting to become a catchphrase.)

Peaches gave me and McKenzie a look that told us to stay put. She scurried behind the bat. The bat smirked, and I wondered what he was up to. He spin and gave Peaches the fastest kick I'd ever seen, before returning to his original position. Peaches flew across the corridor and slammed against the wall, falling limp on the floor.

"Peaches!" McKenzie tried to run to her side, but I grabbed her arm. She glared at me in protest, but I shook my head. She didn't need to risk anything. Fortunately, she seemed to get the message and nodded in understanding.

Caspian spat out, "Listen to me, ya flyin' gerbil." The bat glowered even more (if that was possible). "We ain't here to cause trouble-"

"You should've thought of that before you came in here," the bat warned. "I tried to send you off, but you knuckleheads are persistent."

Send us off? Wait a minute... "_You_ fired a gun?" I asked, despite already knowing the answer.

The bat shrugged. "Doesn't take a genius to know that." Relief washed over me, when I saw Peaches shakily getting to her feet. Thank God, she was alive. Albeit, bleeding. "Now, I suggest you get out of here while you still can."

Suddenly, I realized that the bat was no older than me! Wasn't he a little young to be so violent? My blood turned to ice. STORM. This bat was a soldier of STORM. A fairly new one, given his age. But, why was he threatening animals? The answer was obvious, I realized. OWCA worked for humans, which - in STORM's eyes - meant that we were considered enemies. The crazed and blood-thirsty look in the bat's eyes proved beyond a shred of doubt that STORM was evil. That OWCA agents were the good guys.

That, if things were different, _I_ may have killed someone without a second thought.

The bat's gaze cut to McKenzie, who I felt tense up beside me. The bat's eyes lost their blood lust and gained...the other lust. The way he was looking at her - like she was a slut in a bikini - made my brain buzz. If he so much as _tried_ to touch her...

He lowered his gun. "Maybe we can work something out." Peaches grabbed his wing and threw him to the floor. I didn't even notice her come up to him. He glowered at her. "Let go of me. I just want to strike a deal."

"Why would _we_ make a deal with the likes of _STORM_?" Peaches snarled.

McKenzie breathed out, "STORM?"

I was about to take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, but the bat looked at her with lust in his eyes, and I instead restrained myself from snapping his neck. "What do you want?" I asked, somehow managing to keep my voice from shaking in anger.

He nodded to McKenzie. "Leave the pretty one with me. The rest of you can go."

Caspian grabbed his other wing. "No dice, cowboy!"

McKenzie took a step forward and growled, "Why the hell would I go with anywhere with you?"

The bat shrugged. "I figure a good-looking girl needs someone to...take care of her, so to speak."

"Are you calling me a _slut_?"

Peaches twisted his wing, making him grimace. "If you stop talking, we'll let you go."

The bat ignored her. "Come on, cutie. You won't even have to charge me."

That did it. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I ended up holding his gun up to his face, and he was looking at me in surprise and slight fear. I snarled in his face, "She is _not_ a prostitute."

"Yes!" Caspian cheered. "Frighten the enemy! It's a good strategy!"

I ignored him and briefly eyed the trigger on my weapon. It felt smooth and warm against my skin. It felt tempting. _Very_ tempting. "Apologize to her."

The bat smirked. "I don't think you have the guts to shoot me."

"There's a difference between thinking and _knowing_."

"Perry." McKenzie put her hand on my shoulder. "I got this." I almost smiled. She was up to something.

"Don't do anything stupid," Peaches warned.

McKenzie pushed me aside and grabbed the bat by his shoulders. Their faces were nearly touching, as she snarled, "If you promise to leave us be, then we'll let you go. Otherwise, you answer to _me_."

He smiled deviously at her. "Wouldn't want to answer to anyone else."

That was it for my self-control. McKenzie stepped out of my way just in time, as I lunged at the bat and pinned him to the ground. I barely registered Caspian cheering me on. I think Peaches said something, but I wasn't listening. All I could comprehend was what that STORM B-with-an-itch had said to McKenzie, the hungry way he looked at her, the fact that he was so casual about it. I wanted to rip him apart. Maybe jam my remaining ankle barb into his manhood. _That_ would teach him to play nice. Or, more likely, kill him. Yes, that was a much more appealing option.

After his initial shock, recognition flashed in his green eyes. "You're a soldier, aren't you?" He whispered. I struggled not to look surprised. "I get it. You're undercover, spying on those OWCA freaks, huh?"

"Shut up," I hissed.

He laughed lightly. "Don't worry. I'll play along." He raised his voice to its original volume. "I can't leave if you don't let go of me."

I raised an eyebrow, not believing that he'd leave. He nodded, and I saw honesty in his eyes. Against my better judgement, I let go of him. He flew off somewhere, and I took a deep breath, still fuming.

Someone wrapped her arms around me from behind, and I would have thrown her against the wall, if I didn't recognize McKenzie's voice. "That was awesome!" I turned around to see her grinning at me. The sight of her beautiful smile melted away my anger. "Of course, _I_ could have handled it on my own."

Peaches shook her head. "It was _not_ awesome. Perry, you shouldn't have acted so rashly."

The disappointment in her eyes made me realize what I'd done. I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, making my tail spring up (an involuntary reflex). "I-I guess I just lost my temper..."

"Well, you can't let your emotions take over."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Caspian argued. He grinned in satisfaction, and I felt a little better. He slapped me harshly on the back. "Nice work out there, kid! I don't know where that came from, but it sure as hell scared that lunatic off!"

Where had all that come from, anyway? Oh, damn. Suddenly, I remembered how violent I'd become. Not to mention the malicious thoughts running through my head. Was it because of my being born in STORM? What I'd felt, what I'd wanted so badly to do... It was...evil... And, that bat knew it. He saw my blood lust and identified it as STORM. Did the others hear him? They didn't seem to be behaving any different. Perhaps they hadn't heard the bat taking me as a STORM soldier. God, I hoped they didn't.

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><p><strong>Even the nicest guys have a dark side, and our favorite monotreme is no exception. Review!<strong>


	15. The Apprentice and His Mentor

**Happy Halloween, everyone! I don't know about you, but I am pumped for trick-or-treating, by which I mean getting free candy! This year, I'm going as a serial killer. I'm gonna carry around a fake head and a fake cleaver, and I've already covered an old shirt in fake blood. It's gonna be epic!**

**Oh yeah. Caspian's little song is from the _Gravity_ _Falls_ episode, "The Golf War."**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: The Apprentice and His Mentor<strong>

There's a song by Evanescence, entitled _Field of Innocence_, that describes how a child's world is full of magic and wonder. Anything is possible in that world, and everything is rainbows and unicorns, if you know what I mean. The song compares that with an adult's world. A world where things like drugs and murder and every day cruelty exist. To quote the song, 'I want to go back to believing in everything and knowing nothing at all.'

Unfortunately, I never had the chance to truly experience the wonders of a young lad's imagination. I'd thought that I had, but thinking about what had happened on the expedition, I realized that I'd grown up in an adult's world. I already knew of murder and cruelty. For God's sake, I'd seen the decaying corpse of my best friend!

I never had a 'field of innocence.'

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><p>Peaches wasn't too badly hurt. There was a gash on her back from when she hit the wall of the cave, but it wasn't very deep. Caspian had brought along a first-aid kit in his fedora - you'd be surprised how big insides of those hats are - and let me and McKenzie patch her up. We did a pretty good job.<p>

It was nighttime by the time we left the cave. Caspian's singing managed to ease my mind. "_The drivin' song. Headlights are out. Can't really see where we're goin'._"

Okay, it didn't really ease my mind, so much as distract me. Peaches snapped at him about 'frightening the rookies.' The two of them started arguing like an old married couple again. McKenzie and I snickered about it in the back seats, especially when we started whispering ship names to each other. Ship names for our mentors, that is. I'd thought of Peachian but decided that I liked McKenzie's suggestion, Caspeaches, better. Of course, that fun sort of died off, once Caspian dropped Peaches off at her house.

I hadn't even thought about the expedition until we'd arrived back at the A.W.C.A. Pinky pounced on me upon our arrival and excited asked, "Did you bring me a souvenir?"

I felt guilty about forgetting, but McKenzie - I think unintentionally - covered for me. "I doubt he was able to, Pinky. We had quite an interesting experience."

Pinky cocked his head and his blue eyes sparked with curiosity, making him look more like a puppy than a teenager. "Interesting? Do tell."

Caspian shooed them off with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, you kids go gossip or make out or whatever it is teenagers of the opposite gender do." Pinky and McKenzie grimaced when making out was mentioned. I would have laughed, if Caspian hadn't said, "I need to talk to Perry about somethin'."

Something in his tone told me that something was wrong. Pinky and McKenzie seemed to notice too. They gave me hasty and somewhat awkward goodbyes and scurried into the building. I swallowed thickly. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew that wasn't going to like it. From the way my mentor had spoken, I expected him to be angry. Instead, there was genuine concern in his gray eyes. That was unusual for him. When something was bothering him, he usually either got angry or made jokes about it.

He got down on one knee in an attempt to lower himself to my level. It was a futile attempt. Capybaras were at least two feet taller than platypuses. He put a hand on my much smaller shoulder and asked gently, "You okay, kid?"

I blinked, taken aback by his question and tone of voice. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Just...you were kinda... I don't know."

My heart sank. He was talking about my actions regarding the STORM bat. "I'm sorry," I said because I felt like I was supposed to apologize.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm not mad at you or anything, but, uh..." Caspian lifted his hand from my shoulder and used it to awkwardly scratched his head. "You-you seemed...not like you back there, you know?" Not knowing what else to do, I simply looked at my feet and shrugged. "I understand that you were defending your friend, and I'm fine with that. In fact, I'm actually proud of your bravery." I smiled, but didn't look up. "Pinky tells me some of the other trainees have been sayin' things about you."

My head shot up. "He did?" My pulse raced. Was that what this was about? Had Pinky mentioned that rumors were about my upbringing? Did Caspian suspect anything?

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. Rumor has it you're a STORM spy, or something-"

I frantically shook my head. "I-it's not true!"

He put his hands up defensively. "Relax, kid. I never said it _was_ true." He looked at everything but me. "It's just that you've been actin'...weird lately. I ain't accusin' you of anything. But, I was- Well, it's unusual for, um..."

I felt my bill quirking upward, and I lowered my gaze to hide my watering eyes. Caspian was fumbling over a manly way to say that he cared and was worried about me. It was almost comically obvious, but it was kind of sweet. I cleared my throat to keep my voice from wavering. "I'm okay."

"Okay, good. You-you're not cryin', are you? 'Cause that would just get, you know, awkward." It took everything in me not to hug him. "Anyway, moving on to your little performance." I swallowed. I was going to get a reprimand, right? "Again, you're not in trouble, and you didn't do anything wrong, no matter what Peaches tells you. In fact, what you did back there, that was pretty awesome." Confident that my eyes were dry, I looked up at him. Unfortunately, he didn't look happy. He seemed...suspicious? Concerned? I couldn't tell. "Thing is, um... How do I put this?"

I sighed, fully aware of what was coming. "Just rip the bandage, man."

"Uh, right." He cleared his throat, obviously stalling. "Well, I've been thinkin'... I had my suspicions about STORM when I met you, but you already know that." I nodded, wishing that he would just rip the damn bandage like I told him to. "Of course, I dismissed the thought after a while. I figured you were just smart or your parents were agents or somethin'. Then came those rumors, which I also dismissed. But then, well, that performance I mentioned..."

"You think I'm with STORM," I summed up, barely even hearing myself. My gaze went back to my feet, as I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

He sighed. "Look, I know what you're thinkin'. You think I don't trust you, and that ain't true. Our mutual trust goes without sayin'. It is mutual, right?"

I almost smiled. "I hope so."

"I'll take that as a yes. Did I mention that I'm not accusin' you? 'Cause I'm not. I just wanna confirm that you're not one of those freaks."

I wanted nothing more than to deny his claims. But, something held me back from it. Caspian trusted me. I trusted him. What was stopping me from telling him the truth? Likely, it was the fear that our mutual trust wouldn't be so mutual. What OWCA agent would trust anyone with a STORM background? Let alone the son of the leader of the Australian division?

Apparently, my hesitance was enough of an answer, for Caspian let out a surprised, "Oh." I risked looking at him, but I wished I didn't. I couldn't read his expression, but I could tell he wasn't happy.

I figured that I may as well drop the other bomb. "My mom's Patricia, leader of the Australian division of STORM. My dad was OWCA agent you told me about: Miles the Platypus."

"Oh."

I clenched my fists and blinked back tears, as I grew defensive. "But, I'm not loyal to those bitches! I'm a member of the Organization Without a Cool Acronym! So, live with my background. Or, don't. I don't give a damn."

That was a lie. I gave every damn I had. I wanted him to trust me. Looking over what I've written so far, I realize that Caspian was the closest thing to a father I've ever had. I _needed_ him to trust me.

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><p><strong>So, will Caspian still trust Perry? Only I know the answer! You don't! At least, not yet. Btw, expect a song in the next chapter.<strong>


	16. Letting It Go

**OMG, you're probably all sick of _Frozen_ parodies by now. Too bad! The end of this chapter has a parody of _Let It Go_ from _Frozen_! Live with it! I couldn't resist putting it in!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: Letting It Go<strong>

I braced myself for... Well, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Probably something along the lines of a punch in the face or him yelling at me. I didn't know which would have been worse. Actually, I was about to find out what was worse. Caspian was just staring at me, like he wasn't sure what to make of me. It made me want to scream.

I let out a shaky, defeated breath. "I understand." I laughed bitterly. "Hell, I wouldn't trust me either."

Caspian broke free of whatever trance he was in. "Whoa, wait a minute, kid. I never said- Look, this is- What I'm tryin' to say is-"

I swallowed tears and put on an indifferent look. "Like I said, it doesn't matter."

"Well, it matters to me. Now, I'll be perfectly honest. I don't trust people who lie to me." And, damn if my throat didn't tighten. "That said, other than lying, you haven't done anything to make me take you for a bad guy. Now, I'm going to keep this between us. But, the moment you do something evil is the moment all the knuckleheads in OWCA find out. Got it?"

Had I heard him right? Because, it almost sounded like he was...okay with this. Well, not okay, but accepting. I opened my mouth then closed it, not sure what to say. Surely, he had to have been bothered. At least a little.

An idea sparked in his dark gray eyes, and I wasn't sure what he was plotting. You never knew with that guy. He nodded to his hoverjet. "Let's go, Perry. I wanna show you somethin'."

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><p>Once again, I'd been been blindfolded against my will and thrust into Caspian's hoverjet. The only real difference was that I was sitting shotgun. I didn't know where we were heading, but I didn't ask. I was too busy thinking about what he had said to me. Did he seriously not mind? I mean, it just didn't make sense. Was he lying to me, or was I just being paranoid?<p>

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, Caspian told me, "Alright, kid. Take off your blindfold." I did so and found my mentor smiling encouragingly at me. He looked down at the city, and I did the same. "What do you see?"

I had never seen Danville at night before. The shining street lights and the colorful signs were kind of pretty, though the smell of exhaust fumes wasn't all that pleasant. Unsure of what exactly I was suppose to be looking for, I sought out more specific details. A human couple holding hands, a few drunk guys staggering out of a bar, the giant floating baby head.

"Well, kid?" Caspian asked.

Still gazing at the various sights, I shrugged. "Just...city stuff. And, that weird baby head thing."

"Little heads up," Caspian warned, "you will _never_ get use to that freakish head." The capybara was right. I never did get use to it. "You know what I see?" I looked at him. His eyes were still fixed on the street below. "I see a whole bunch of people and animals, each with his or her own back story. Wanna know what they all have in common?"

"What?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"They all have somebody, somewhere, who accepts them, despite whatever stupid stuff they've done in the past. They're all living their lives, and looking to the future. It's all you have, and it's all everyone else has."

I was mesmerized. Caspian was jovial, cocky, rarely serious. What he just said... It seemed philosophical and not like him at all. Beyond that, it made sense. Sure, I'd made mistakes, but my life with STORM was over and done with. And, if he could accept me, maybe other people could too.

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a quiet, "Wow." My voice cracked, but it was more from puberty than emotion.

Caspian laughed, still gazing down at the city. "Yeah. I'm a deep well." He frowned in sudden surprise. "Hot potatoes!"

"What's wrong?" I asked, searching the street for any sign of a problem.

"Kid, how'd you like to take on your first bad guy?" He asked as he drove his hoverjet into an alley.

My first bad guy? The thought both thrilled and frightened me. Before I could say that I would love to do that, Caspian parked his hoverjet, and slapped his hand over my bill, silencing me. He used his other hand to point to a man in an entirely black outfit and a black mask. He was carrying a large burlap sap. Considering how much it was squirming, there must have been someone in it.

"See that guy in the black?" Caspian whispered. Still unable to talk, I nodded. "I saw him stuffing someone in that bag. People don't do that unless their kidnapping someone, or they're disposing of a dead body. Pretty sure the victim's alive, but kidnapping is still a crime." He removed his hand from my face and grinned in anticipation. "You up for a little butt-kicking?"

I returned the grin. "You know I am."

Without another word, we charged at the man, instantly knocking him over. He seemed initially stunned, but quickly regained his composure. I went for his bag, but he grabbed me and wagged his finger at me. "No, no, no," he said in a German accent that was so high-pitched that it bordered on annoying. "That is _my_ bag. Not yours. _Mine_." I noticed Caspian reach for the sack. The human noticed this to, and harshly pushed him into the wall with his foot. "Mine!" he reiterated, tone like a toddler who wouldn't share his toy. He met my glare with a questioning look. "Hey, what are you, anyway. Are you a duck with a beaver tail, or a beaver with a duck-bill? You look kind of...I-I don't know, alien. Wait, _are_ you an alien? Are you a Martian? I bet you are. I bet you're from Mars."

I had no idea how to respond to this guy's senseless babbling. Caspian groaned, walked up to the man while he continued to ramble, and took the sack. He opened it and several cats ran out.

"Hey, my cats!" the man exclaimed, dropping me, and I plopped down on my bum. "Aw, man. You have no idea how long it took me to steal all of those. 'Cause, you know, cat burglars steal cats. They-they do that, right? I mean, why else would they be called cat burglars?" Caspian and I just stared at him in bewilderment. "You know, I want to be evil, but maybe cat burglarizing isn't for me. I mean, I'm not stealthy like a cat, I'm not clever like a cat- Oh, I get it! Cat burglars are named for their cat-like qualities!" Caspian and I ran uncomfortably back to the hoverjet, the man still talking. "I can't believe I wasted all that time stealing cats."

The two of us boarded the hoverjet, and I asked my mentor, "Shouldn't we arrest that guy?"

"Why?" Caspian scoffed. "For being stupid? I promise, not all bad guys are that dense. When you get a nemesis, he'll probably be a whole lot smarter than that freak. Ah, well." He shrugged and started his hoverjet. "That just proves it to you."

"Proves what?" I asked.

"That not all humans deserve punishment. Sure, there are bad ones who actually _are_ bad, but there a whole lot of good ones too. And, as you saw, everything in between."

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><p>He dropped me off outside the AWCA, and I watched him fly away. My mind buzzed with everything Caspian had told me, and I smiled. Everyone has some kind of story to tell, and whether that story is good or bad, they are accepted. I chuckled lightly as I recalled the weird guy and his stolen cats. Even he had people who loved him, despite...whatever the hell made him so strange.<p>

I breathed in the crisp air as a gentle breeze ruffled my teal fur. A song popped into my head, and like everybody in Danville did on occasion, I started singing.

"_The stars shine bright in the middle of night._

_And, the wind blows as I sing_

_About a palace of fear._

_I thought that I was its king._

_I was mistaken, for I didn't realize_

_That I couldn't hide forever, though I tried._

_All that I've done,_

_All that I've seen,_

_Thought I was evil, as I'd been raised to be._

_Concealed myself,_

_Wouldn't let it show._

_Now, someone knows._

_Let it go. Let it go._

_Through the challenges, I'll fight._

_Let it go. Let it go._

_The past, I'll leave behind._

_It ends right here!_

_Open up the door!_

_Let the truth shine through._

_The past doesn't bother me anymore._"

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><p><strong>I might continue that song in a later chapter. <strong>**Come on, it's a _Phineas and Ferb_ fic. There has to be a song!**

**Also, I'll give you one guess as to who that cat burglar was. :)**

**Review!**


	17. Friend or Foe?

**I ate turkey, and I went Black Friday shopping at seven in the morning. Life is good. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: Friend or Foe?<strong>

McKenzie and Pinky had been waiting for me, which made me feel a little guilty. They pounded me with questions about why I'd been gone for so long. I was too tired to explain, so I said I'd tell them in the morning. Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to get to sleep. My mind was buzzing with the one question that neither of them asked: Should I tell them I'm from STORM? Caspian was willing to accept it, but were they? Pinky and McKenzie were my friends, so maybe they would.

I don't know when I fell asleep. All I know is that I was awoken by a banging on the door.

"The Viking is right," Pinky mumbled, also having been woken up. His eyes widened in excitement, and I knew what was coming next. As I'd predicted, he ran to the door, only this time he was barking incoherently. I gave him a blank look, and his face flushed under his short fur. "Sorry. Can't help myself."

He opened the door, and McKenzie strolled in like she owned the place. She shut the door behind her and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I believe a certain platypus has some explaining to do."

Yes. Yes, I did. But, how much to tell them? After some brief stalling, I decided to start with the part about the literal cat burglar. Their reactions were somewhat mixed. Pinky was grinning and shaking even more than usual, while McKenzie was obviously jealous. Then, I explained the part about the cats, and they both laughed at the human's stupidity, as did I. I realized then how comfortable I was with them around. It was twice as pleasant as it was with Rascal, partly because there were two of them, and it felt good to know that I could be that close to affiliates of the Organization Without a Cool Acronym, despite being a former-member of the Society of Trained Organisms for Ravaging Man.

So, I went for it.

"Now, before I lose my nerve," I started, praying that they would be as understanding as my mentor, "there's something I've been keeping from you guys."

Pinky cocked his head in that puppy-like way of his, while McKenzie blurted, "Well, make like a cherry and spit it out."

Pinky just looked at her. "Uh, cherries can't spit."

"I stand by that metaphor."

I pinched the bridge of my bill in annoyance. "Guys, this is important."

"Sorry," they both said quickly, apparently sensing my somber mood.

Now having their attention, I told them. I told them about my upbringing. STORM, my parents, even how I joined the Academy. Afterwards, they were silent as they let this new information sink in. It was impossible for me to tell what they were thinking. Eventually, the silence became too much for me.

"Say something!" I demanded, fighting panic.

Pinky opened his mouth. To my dismay, the only thing that came out was a stunned and drawn out, "Uh..."

"I-i-it's...It's a lot to take in," McKenzie stammered. My heart lurched. "Okay. Yeah. STORM. Those guys."

I barely managed to swallow. "W-well?" I asked in a small voice, sweat forming on my brow.

"Well..." Pinky said, rocking on his feet. "I think you're...really nice, for a bad guy." That did not make me feel better, and he seemed to realize what he'd said. "I-I mean- You're not- I don't-" He groaned. "Yo nunca se que decir!" (Translation: I never know what to say!)

McKenzie elbowed him in the ribs and said, "I think what Pinky means is, um, this is kind of weird, but... Well, you said that you realized humans could be nice. I think that means that your point of view is..." She shrugged, seeming to search for the right words. "I guess, less evil. Not to say that you're evil."

"I, personally, am impressed that you came clean like that, amigo," Pinky told me. "If I were you, I would never have the guts to confess. And, you know," he smiled, "since you confessed, then you must not be evil, right?"

McKenzie smiled and nodded in agreement. "Yeah. A bad guy wouldn't blow his own cover. That would just be dumb."

I smiled and blinked back tears of relief. They were okay with this. They were seriously okay with this.

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><p>Let's fast forward a few days.<p>

Apparently, our mentors all thought that we were ready to become full-fledged agents. There was only one thing we had to do: fight evil. More specifically, we had to battle our mentors' nemeses. Pinky would be fighting Dr. Bloodpudding, Bucky the Doberman's nemesis. McKenzie's opponent would be Peaches' nemesis, Dr. Bringdown. As for me, I'd be going after Dr. Roddenstein, often referred to as Rodney. While us trainees would be doing the fighting, our mentors would be hiding nearby, in case we couldn't handle things on our own.

Rodney's hideout wasn't much of a hideout. It was more of a basement in his house. Even so, it was filled with various gadgets, and the dark-colored walls gave it a bit of an ominous feel. After Rodney went through the initial shock of his nemesis not being present (that he knew of), he managed to lock me in a cage. Fearing that I'd done something wrong by getting trapped, I looked up at Caspian, who was hiding in the ceiling's air ducts. He gave me a smile and a thumbs-up. I took that as a positive sign.

Rodney wasn't very attractive, to put it lightly, with his large, bald head, pointy ears, premature wrinkles, and strange accent. I think he's German, but I'm still not entirely sure. He was also rather delusional, having the ridiculous desire for world domination. His plan was to start by eliminating the mayor of Danville, taking his place, and working his way up to ruling the world. Ergo, my goal was to stop him from using from kind of machine (I believe it was called a 'cancer-inizer') to give the mayor terminal cancer. I didn't know what that was back then, but I had a feeling it was bad.

I quickly escaped my cage by jimmying the lock with a paper clip I'd found on the floor. The battle that followed was short, and I'd left Rodney in a heap on the floor, surrounded by broken machine parts. As I left, he called out in anger, "Curse you, unnamed platypus!"

Caspian met me outside the building and gave me a harsh pat on the back. "Damn, you're good at this! But, you do know there was a bazooka lying on the table, right? You could have used that."

I shrugged. "I thought that would be cheating."

Caspian laughed. "For a STORM-bitch, you sure like to play by the rules, don't you?" He seemed to realize what he'd called me. "I-I mean-"

"Well," I countered playfully, "for an old coot, you sure know how to joke around."

He laughed again. "I love this guy!" His wrist-comm beeped, and he answered the call, putting on a professional expression.

I heard the frantic voice of Major Monogram coming from the device. "Agent C! I know you're busy with assessing your apprentice's skills, but we need our best agents over here at once! There's an attack at Headquarters! It's STORM!" I couldn't understand the rest of it, since the connection seemed to be breaking.

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><p>On the ride to Headquarters, my heart pounded and my head swam. I was terrified at the idea of fighting my ex-colleagues. What if one of them recognized me? What if that lustful bat was there? And, if someone did recognize me, what would they do to me? What would they do to everyone else?<p>

My questions went unanswered. We had arrived too late. The inside of the building was in tatters; cubicles were destroyed, agents were either lying injured or assisting the injured, and the all-too familiar stench of fresh blood tainted the air, making me want to gag. Not just at the smell, but at the memory that the smell used to fill me with a sense of wonder and accomplishment.

I was told to stay put, while Caspian went to find the major. I probably would have listened to him, if I hadn't seen Pinky curled up on the floor, hugging his knees and resting his forehead on them. I raced to my friend's side, stomach churning with anxiety as I heard him whimpering and saw him shaking more than usual.

"Pinky?" I said gently. He looked up at me with tears running down his face, mixing with the half-dry blood from a deep gash on his cheek. I swallowed bile and asked hesitantly, "What happened?"

He answered in a small voice, "B-Bucky's dead." That was all he could manage to say before he resumed sobbing.

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><p><strong>Do you all recognize the name "Bucky?" If you don't...well, I'm not telling you who he is. You'll just have to wait and see.<strong>

**In the meantime, review!**


	18. Graduation

**Warning: This chapter contains alcohol, but _not_ underage drinking.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: Graduation<strong>

Number of Casualties in the Attack: Two.

Number of Agents Injured: Eighteen.

Number of Times I Wanted to Start Sobbing Out of Both Guilt and Grief: Three.

I felt somewhat responsible for STORM's attack on Headquarters. Why? Because after Caspian gave me the rundown on the situation, he mentioned that STORM only took one thing: my file. _My_ file. Meaning that they wanted information about me. Meaning that they were suspicious. That bat from the expedition must have mentioned me. I couldn't think of any other explanation.

Pinky was okay, other than some bruises and a deep gash on his cheek, which left a permanent scar hiding under his fur. Major Monogram had a broken leg, several cuts and bruises, and a black eye. Really, I could go on and on, naming all the injuries, but that would take up too much space.

McKenzie and Peaches arrived shortly after me and Caspian. They wanted full details on the attack. Pinky managed to compose himself and shakily explained what had happened.

Shortly after he and Bucky had arrived at Headquarters, the alarm went off. STORM soldiers had ambushed the building, wielding a variety of weaponry. Long story short, they had left with my file, and the agents were pretty tattered but so were the soldiers.

I was lucky I'd managed to get at least an hour's worth of sleep that night.

Graduation was understandably delayed a week. During said week, I had been totally on edge, jumping at even the slightest things. Caspian attempted to assure me that I was merely being paranoid. Well, what he said was, "Kid, quit being such priss," but I knew what he meant. Either way, I remained paranoid throughout the week.

My nightmares had returned, filled with bloodshed and my comrades dying because of me. Because I'd left STORM. None of this would have happened if I'd just stayed with STORM. Part of me actually regretted joining OWCA.

In short, it was the longest week of my life.

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><p>When the week <em>finally<em> passed, it was time for graduation. This provided me with some distraction, and since nothing bad had happened during the week-long hiatus, I was a bit more relaxed. The graduating party was small: just Peter, Pinky, McKenzie, and myself. Apparently, my friends and Peter were the oldest and more experienced of the trainees, I was simply a 'fast-learner.' I wasn't quite ready to tell the entire agency about my upbringing, so I let them all think what they wanted.

It was nice day, with a light breeze and the warm summer sun beating down on us, so the graduation ceremony was held outside. A small, makeshift stage (meaning a bunch of painted boxes, due to budget cuts) was set up, and those of us graduating were standing on top of it. The trainees were filing out of the Academy building, as I studied my fellow-grads' demeanors. Peter rocked on his feet, seeming uncharacteristically nervous. Stage fright, I assumed. McKenzie's entire being radiated pride and confidence, two traits in her that I found rather appealing. Needless to say, I'd developed a bit of a crush on her.

Pinky... Well, he was smiling, but it was clearly forced. Usually, our mentors would provide us with our fedoras, the hats identifying us as agents. Bucky was dead. He wouldn't be giving Pinky anything anymore. Caspian had volunteered to do so, but it wouldn't be the same.

As for me, I just held my head high and tried to keep myself from looking sorry for Pinky. I scanned the gathering of trainees. Some looked excited, some jealous, and some just bored. Cookie and Cream were waving merrily at us, and I gave a small, polite wave back, drawing giggles some them. Giggles, which I had no idea how to react to. Oddly enough, I couldn't find Dennis. He was good friends with Pinky, McKenzie, and myself, and I wondered what had kept him from showing up to at least watch our graduation. Hell, even Carl had come and was sitting Indian-style behind the trainees. I still wasn't quite certain of his position in the O.W.C.A. He wasn't an intern or supervisor or anything - not that I was aware of - so I wasn't entirely sure what he was doing there. No one else seemed to, either.

Major Monogram, sporting a cast on his leg and an eye patch, walked on crutches up to the 'stage.' Caspian, Peaches, and Peter's mentor - a duck named Darryl - followed, each carrying a fedora. Actually, Caspian was carrying two. I knew why.

Major Monogram called everyone to attention. "By now, many of you of heard of the attack on Headquarters." Did he really have to start his speech like _that_? "However, they say that we must look to the future and that we shouldn't dwell on past events." His unreadable gaze traveled to us four graduates. I felt self-conscious, unsure of whether or not he suspected anything after STORM stole my file. "Peter, Pinky, Perry, and McKenzie, this agency is one of strength, intelligence, and justice. You have shown the skills and confidence needed to be a secret agent. Do you swear to uphold the integrity of this agency and to take on the challenges that come with being a secret agent?" We saluted, as we'd been told to do. "Then, as the second highest ranking member of the Organization Without a Cool Acronym, I hereby dub you as secret agents." He turned his attention to our mentors. "Agents C, P, and D, please do the hand-off."

They nodded and stepped on to the stage. Pride radiating off them, they each put a fedora on their apprentice's - in Caspian's case, mine and Pinky's - heads and gave us congratulatory salutes before walking off-stage.

Major Monogram addressed us once more. "Agents, P, P, P, and... Carl, what would McKenzie's initials be? M or MK?"

We were all startled by who the question was addressed to, Carl most of all. "U-Um," Carl stammered. "W-well, McKenzie has a capital M and a capital K-"

"Agents P, P, P, and MK," Major Monogram continued, smiling slightly, "welcome to the agency."

* * *

><p>Caspian laughed loudly and plopped his now-empty glass on the ground. "Well, I'm sufficiently buzzed! How 'bout you, kid?"<p>

To celebrate my becoming an agent, Caspian took me out for a drink. And, by 'took me out for a drink,' I mean that he said he had a surprise for me and drove me to an ally by some bar. He then proceeded to steal a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. This lead to us sitting on the ground, drinking and Caspian taking one sip too many, if you know what I mean.

I only had one glass. I may have been old enough, but I wasn't keen on getting drunk. Besides, I'd discovered that I wasn't crazy about the taste of wine. "Please, let me take the wheel."

Caspian laughed again. He reached for the bottle, but I moved it away from him, knowing that he'd had enough. "'Course you can! You gotta practice drivin'. Your humans can't take you ever-where."

_My_ humans. I'd forgotten about that. Smaller animals were typically given host-families, which were humans that would care for us under the assumption that we were average, 'mindless' animals. In other words, we would become _pets_. Part of me was intrigued by the concept. It would be a challenge to avoid revealing my true self to my host-family. If they found out, I would have to be sent to a different home for their own protection. The other part of me - the part still corrupted by STORM - was terrified. I knew that not all humans were bad, but I knew that some of them _were_ bad. What if I ended up with a host-family that tried to hurt me?

Despite my ment- Despite my _comrade's_ drunken state, I voiced my thoughts. "Do you think I'll end up with an abusive host-family?"

Caspian hiccupped. "Don't know. But, if ya do, you could smack 'em 'round. Show 'em who's boss. And-and then you be reloca-" He hiccupped again. "Relocated. No big deals."

He had a point. I could always get myself sent to another host-family. I just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Caspian reached for the bottle. "Can I have s'mores beverages?"

"I think I'll just take you back home," I suggested, dumping the remainder of the wine on the ground.

Caspian shrugged and gave me a lop-sided smile. "'Kay. Hope my zoos-keepers like hanging-overs."

He was referring to actual zoo-keepers. He lived in the Danville Zoo, since he was too big to be a pet.

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><p><strong>Is it me, or is drunk-Caspian hilarious?<strong>

**Will Perry like his host-family? Review to find out! Although, I think you already know the answer. ;)**


	19. The Flynn-Fletcher's

**Happy New Year! :D**

**The majority of the dialogue in the pet store is from _Across the Second Dimension_.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen: The Flynn-Fletcher's<strong>

The crate was cramped and smelled like day-old kibble, which doesn't smell very good. Unfortunately, I was going to be stuck in there for a while. Today was the day we would be put up for adoption. I was still having mixed feelings about the whole mindless pet act. Plus, the longer I sat in my crate in the O.W.C.A. Animal Rescue Center, which is basically a long way of saying 'pet store,' the more I wanted to screw the adoption and go live in a zoo like Caspian. I sat there, bored as can be, watching other agents get adopted. Some of them were graduates from other divisions, some were agents who had been relocated for one reason or another.

One of the owners-to-be was a cute little girl with black pig-tails, who couldn't have been older than five years. She was so cute, in fact, that one high-pitched "Watcha doin'?" out of her mouth was enough to make a lot of us - myself included - practically fall in love with her. It was Pinky that she chose, claiming that he was "super extra adorable." Shortly after, McKenzie was chosen by a blond woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties.

I was in there for a good hour after that before I became too bored to stay awake. Eventually, the door opened again, waking me up. Five humans - two adults, three children, all with blue eyes - came in. The mother had bright red hair and a pretty face. The father had glasses and brown hair. They looked normal enough. It was their children that intrigued me. The girl had orange hair, a round face, and an abnormally long neck. The two boys looked about the same age as Pinky's new owner. One had hair the same color as his mother's, and his head was oddly triangular. The other had bright _green_ hair. I remember wondering if that was possible for _any_ species. Honestly, I still question it to this day.

"Come on, kids," the father - I would later know him as Lawrence - urged, speaking with a British accent. "Pick out any pet you want."

"Oh, look Phineas," the mother - I would later know her as Linda - picked up the triangular boy - Phineas - and showed him Chester the Cat. "This one's looking at you!"

Lawrence picked up the green-haired boy and showed him a dog I didn't know the name of. "And, this one's looking at you, Ferb!"

The long-necked girl - I would later know her as Candace - looked at some of the aquatic agents, meaning the fish, and I almost laughed when they swam away from her. Her frustration was somewhat amusing. "Why won't anything look at _me_!?"

The kids wandered around for a while, observing the variety of animals. Phineas pointed at just about everyone, saying things like, "This one's cool!" and "Ferb! Ferb! Look at this one!" and "I want them all! Can we have them all, Mom?"

At that last question, Linda simply laughed and said, "I'm afraid you kids are only allowed one animal."

Soon enough, the boys found me. Phineas grinned. "Ferb, this one's looking at both of us at the same time!"

I believe he was referring to the wall-eyed appearance I'd taken on to fool people into thinking I was mindless. I was a little flustered by the two of them staring at me, and all that came out of my mouth was a nervous, "H-hello?"

Of course, the humans couldn't understand me. Linda gushed, "Aw...!" Apparently, my anxiety was cute.

Candace seemed to think otherwise. "That thing? You're kidding, right?"

Phineas bounced a little. I could tell he was the most enthusiastic of the children. "He's weird! Weird's fun! And, warm! And, squishy! And, looks like this thing!" I wasn't sure whether or not to be offended.

Candace sighed, giving in to her younger sibling's excitement. She shrugged. "Why not? How lame can it be?"

Linda smiled. "Well, I guess that settles that." She waved over a female store employee, who was actually Carl in disguise. I assumed that Carl was probably Major Monogram's intern by now, but do not ask me why he was disguised as a woman. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

Carl approached them and asked in an impressive faux woman's voice, "Is there something I can do for you?"

Lawrence nodded. "Ah, yes." He pointed to me. "We'd like that one, please."

Carl glanced down at me and asked Lawrence in surprise (_this_, I was offended by), "You want to adopt the platypus?"

"Oh, is that what it is?" Really? He didn't know what species I was? And, he was going to adopt me? It seemed kind of stupid. "Well, yes! May we have him, please?"

"What would you even name a platypus?" Candace wondered.

"Bartholomew!" Phineas and Ferb answered simultaneously.

* * *

><p>They called me Bartholomew for the entire car ride. Fortunately, when we'd arrived at their home, Linda realized that my real name was written on my adoption papers, so they started calling me Perry. Better late than never, I supposed.<p>

The family seemed nice enough, which helped to put me at ease. Really, the only family member who was even a little weary of me was Candace, but she never tried to hurt me - although, in her teen years, she showed a clear distain towards me - and I managed to get used to her. The parents seemed to like me well enough, both of them thinking I was cute.

Phineas and Ferb... They were another story.

I don't mean that in a bad way. Just the opposite, actually. They showered me with affection from the moment they took me out of my crate. They hugged me, petted me, wouldn't let me out of their sight. (Except when I used the litter box. I was grateful for _that_ privacy.) At first, I was cautious. I wasn't use to such antics and was unsure of how to react. Gradually, however, I discovered how much I enjoyed it. Sure, I would have liked to have a little more peace and quiet, but I didn't mind the boys' endless chatter and constant displays of affection. Especially when I started paying attention to just who the five year-olds were.

They couldn't have been more different. Phineas was spontaneous and enthusiastic, constantly smiling and babbling about whatever topics he could think of. Ferb was much calmer and quieter, clearly prefering to let his brother - step-brother, I'd discovered; Ferb had a British accent like his father - do the majority of the talking. Polar opposites, they balanced each other out, fitting together like puzzle pieces. The mutual respect and brotherly love between them couldn't have been clearer.

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><p><em>I couldn't move. My arms, legs, and tail were strapped against the wall. My mother's face was mere centimeters from my own, and I bit my bill to keep from screaming at her. Patricia's calm demeanor infuriated me further. It was as if she had done this kind of thing before. Hell, for all I knew, she probably had.<em>

_"You shouldn't have betrayed the society," she whispered then took a step away from me. "It's your own fault that this happened."_

_I glared at her, wanting to gag from the sheer realization of how similar we were. Not just our brown eyes and orange bills and tails. We were both stubborn and oh-so passionate about our works. Hating her made me want to hate myself for being like her._

_"Ready to see what you've done?" she asked._

_No. I didn't want to see, didn't want to know. Without waiting for an answer, she untied the ropes that were holding me down. I wanted to attack her, but I was too anxious. I didn't do anything to them. She and the rest of STORM did._

_Right?_

_She took me into a room, and my heart stopped, my blood froze solid, and I just plain couldn't function. There were five bodies in the room._

_My new owners' lifeless bodies were in the room._

I awoke with a start, tears falling down my cheeks. I ignored them and instead followed my first instinct: make sure everyone was okay. I climbed out of my pet-bed in the kitchen, staying on all fours in case someone else was awake, and ran upstairs, remembering that the bedrooms were up there. The first bedroom I came across belonged to the parents. They were both sleeping soundly, so I moved on. Candace came next. The only unusual thing in there was her frustrated expression and muttering of, "My name's not Kevin." She was obviously dreaming of one thing or another.

Finally, the boys' room. The moment I stepped inside, I heard whimpering. It came from the bed that was shaped like a raft. I hopped on the bed, and my heart clenched. Phineas was shivering and whimpering in his sleep. It seemed that I wasn't the only one who'd had a nightmare. I glanced over at the bed on the other side of the room. Ferb was sleeping soundly, sucking his thumb, blissfully ignorant of his sibling's current dilemma.

I gently nudged Phineas with my hand, and he shot upright, gasping. He blinked a few times, then his gaze quickly shifted to Ferb, who was now awake, then to me. Phineas' eyes welled up, and his bottom lip quivered. Without warning, he grabbed me in an embrace and cried softly. Knowing that I couldn't show any signs of anthropomorphism, I fought the urge to hug him back. Ferb had moved over to his brother's bed and put his arm around Phineas' shoulders. Phineas leaned into the touch and continued weeping. His tears falling on my fur felt like acid on my heart. I purred as loud as I could, and it seemed to calm him down.

"Th-there was this b-big monster," Phineas lamented, referring to his nightmare. "I-it-it ate you, Ferb. I-it ate you and Perry. And, Candace too. A-and, Mom and D-dad..."

Ferb held him tighter. "Just remember, brother. It was only a bad dream."

Phineas sniffed. "Y-yeah..."

My pet-bed became reserved for daytime naps. I'd started rotating between my boys' beds at night. It seemed to keep the nightmares at bay, for the most part. Mine and theirs, alike.

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><p><strong>So, Perry met his family. Will this lead to bad things? Find in the next installment of my fanfiction!<strong>


	20. My First Assignment

**Guess what! I'm not dead! I've been a little preoccupied with my other fics, so obviously I'm not updating as often. But, here I am now!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen: My First Assignment<strong>

I had come to discover that Phineas and Ferb's favorite part of our home was the backyard. Specifically, under the lone oak tree that was perched back there. Today, they had laid out a huge sheet of paper, and there were crayons scattered around on it and the grass. I had accidentally sat on one and subtly pulled it out from under me and tossed it aside. The drawing was actually rather impressive, considering that the boys were only five years of age. While I didn't what it was back then, I know now that it was a huge rollercoaster.

Phineas stood up to admire his and his step-brother's handiwork and said, "We're gonna build this, some day."

I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or Ferb, but I liked Phineas' ambition. I could see in his eyes that he was serious about building the roller coaster.

Ferb nodded. He had a British accent like his father, so I figured that he and Phineas weren't related. "Yep. It's gonna be great." He had the same spark of determination that Phineas did, and I had a feeling that they probably would construct their drawing at some point.

I just didn't think it would happen when they were ten.

I heard the gate open. It was that cute girl who had adopted Pinky, and she was carrying - well, attempting to carry - him with her, as she walked up to my boys. She sat Pinky down. "Hi, guys!" she greeted, still as adorable as ever. "Whatcha doin'?"

Pinky barked a greeting to me and raced over to my side, as Phineas replied, "Hey, Isabella! We're drawing on the ground!"

"Actually, we're not drawing _on_ the ground," Ferb corrected playfully. "We're drawing on the _paper_ that's on the ground."

Phineas rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Technicalities, Ferb. And, I don't even know what technicalities are. By the way, Isabella, it looks like we _all_ got new pets!"

I tuned out the rest of their conversation and chatted with Pinky. "New owner treating you well?"

Pinky happily wagged his tail. "Yep! She's really nice and really cute! What about you, Perry? Those boys seem friendly."

"They are." And, I meant it. The newbies get a week to get used to their host families, before anything else can happen. This would be the last day of my week. I almost didn't want to leave the Flynn-Fletcher's - especially since I wouldn't be able to tell them where I was going - but I was really excited about what was to come.

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><p>Getting your first nemesis is an exciting time in every young agent's life. The fedora doesn't make you an official agent. It basically just says that you're qualified. No, it's the nemesis that let's you call yourself an agent. As much as I loved spending time with my family (and I <em>really<em> did enjoy that more than I'd expected), what I really wanted was to fight a bad guy. Not like that literal cat burglar. I mean an actual villain. Pinky and McKenzie got nemeses before I did. Pinky's was a woman named Professor Poofenplotz - weird name, too much Botox. McKenzie's was a man named Dr. Bloodpudding, which I highly doubt is his real name. Me? I would be fighting a man named Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, although Major Monogram had a tendency to call him 'Doof' and 'that idiot.'

I had looked over his file and wasn't all that impressed with what I saw. His 'crimes' seemed more ridiculous than evil, but I decided that they probably just didn't want to assign a criminal mastermind to a rookie. That made sense. Appearance-wise, Doof had a long, pointy nose, messy brown hair, and slightly yellow teeth. After seeing him and Rodney, I began to wonder if ugly was common amongst bad guys or if I simply wound up with the unattractive ones.

I had spotted my target heading for the photography store and hid myself behind a mailbox to spy on him. It was then that I noticed his terrible slouch and wondered if that made him uncoordinated in any way. My answer came when I saw him trip over a pebble. Clad in a white lab coat - which was _not_ doing his body any favors - I wondered if I had been assigned to some sort of evil pharmacist.

My goal, today, was to simply observe. Thwarting or interactions of any kind would wait until he actually did something evil. Or, as close to evil as he could get.

One thing bugged me for a good while, though. Doof seemed familiar, somehow. I felt like I'd seen him before, but I couldn't place it. I'd heard his voice while he was getting his picture taken, and that only made him more familiar. Not remembering was driving me crazy!

After Doof was finished, I hid behind the mailbox again as he was leaving the store. He almost saw me, but I remained invisible. A cat passed him by, and he said to it in a German accent, "Hey, aren't you one of the cats I stole, the other night?"

The cat burglar was my nemesis. What were the odds?

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><p>The next day, I actually got to do something. Just in case anyone finds this journal, I will not disclose how or where I was given my mission. I will only describe what happened during said mission. Basically, Dr. Doofenshmirtz had an evil plan, and I was supposed to stop him.<p>

Upon my arrival at Doof's - ahem - 'hideout,' my new nemesis was surprised, probably because a platypus in a fedora had ridden a jetpack on to his balcony. Then, I showed him my business card, and I immediately regretted doing so. He squealed like a teenage girl meeting One Direction, or whatever boy band is currently popular. It was like he _wanted_ a nemesis. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed about it.

His plan wasn't what I would consider evil. If anything, it would have annoyed people. He was trying to freeze traffic in place, under the less than half-witted assumption that it would let him 'take over the entire Tri-State Area.' It didn't take me long to defeat him. His 'traffic-freeze-inator' had a _self-destruct button_. That's right; a self-freaking-destruct button. In plain sight. How this guy qualified to have an OWCA agent after him, I'll never know.

Why I'm _still_ assigned to him, I'll never know.

Anyway, really all I had to do was throw a few punches at the guy and press an unnecessary button to defeat him. I had put my jet pack back on and flew off, as the machine exploded and Doof cried out in frustration, "Curse you, Perry the Platypus!" It was the first of many - and I mean _many_ - times I would hear that.

During my flight, my new wrist-communicator buzzed, and I checked the call. It was Pinky. He seemed frantic about something. "Perry," he said fearfully, "you-you might to get home. The kids were playing a-and your owners started feeling sick and they threw up and- Perry, an ambulance just came for them. Something's really wrong."

My heart stopped, but my flight didn't, and I flew into a bird.

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><p><strong>Dun, dun, DUN. This story just took a dark turn. Review!<strong>


	21. Seeing My Boys

**Oh my freaking God! I haven't posted in forever! Sorry. I wasn't really in to this story for a while, but then I got back in to it, so...**

**Anyway, I won't be updating as often - duh! - but enjoy what I have for you today.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty: Seeing My Boys<strong>

Crawling through hospital air ducts is _not_ something I'd like to do again. The small space was making me claustrophobic, I was freezing from the air conditioning, and the smell of sickness and antiseptic was assaulting my nostrils. Things would have been a whole lot easier if hospitals allowed animals. Still, I _had_ to see my boys. Pinky was clueless as to what was wrong with them, so I took matters into my own hands.

As I padded on the cold metal surface, occasionally choking on dust particles, I mentally listed all the possible scenarios that could have sent Phineas and Ferb to the hospital. I started with common things, like food poisoning or maybe concussions; those two had fallen out of the tree before, so they could have easily done it again. But, Pinky hadn't mentioned anything about them eating or climbing, so there went those options. Eventually my mind, inevitably, wondered to things as horrifying as drugs and attempted homicide. I shook off the ideas as quickly as they'd come. Anyone with eyes would have been able to tell if five year-olds were on drugs. And, who'd want to kill them? Oh, the places a grieving mind will go...

"_There_ you are, Perry."

I stopped abruptly, taking a moment to recognize the voice as- McKenzie? I struggled to turn around and saw that, yes, yes it was McKenzie. As confused as I was, I was still glad to not be alone with my worried thoughts and the various dust bunnies (one of which looked like an actual bunny).

"Mack," I said, "what the devil are you doing here?"

McKenzie shrugged. "Pinky called me and told me what you were plotting, so I figured I'd come along. You know what they say: misery loves company. Though, I'm not quite sure who 'they' are." She shook herself in a futile attempt to dislodge the dust from her fur and ended up making herself sneeze. I almost laughed at her unexpectedly cute and dainty sneeze. She sounded a little like a kitten. "Ugh. Let's find your boys' room, so we can get the frack out of here."

It was nice not having to be crammed in there alone. McKenzie was doing an okay job of lightening my mood, although it seemed unintentional. Mostly, she just muttered to herself about how 'utterly stupid and cliché' crawling through air ducts was. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that my boys' illness - or whatever it was - was not an accident. Maybe I was being overprotective and paranoid, but there was something deeper going on. I could feel it in my gut, and my gut has always been incredibly smart.

"Perry," McKenzie's voice yanked me out of my thoughts, "listen."

I did as I was told, perking up a bit when I heard a familiar voice saying, "We can make the most of this, right, Ferb?"

It was Phineas! And, Ferb was with him!

A hand shoved me in the butt - wow, there is no subtle way to write that - and the explicitly of the action sent a heat wave crawling up my neck. "Move it!" McKenzie urged excitedly.

Again, I did as I was told, crawling as quick as I could to the source of the voice. Eventually, we'd found a ventilation shaft to look, and I'd nearly wept with relief when I saw them. The boys were okay. Well, okay enough to still be alive. After a moment, I managed to process the state they were in. I didn't like it. They were both in bed, and their skin, usually tanned from being outdoors so much, was becoming as pale as the sheets on their beds.

Phineas was on his side with his elbow perched on his pillow and cheek resting in his hand, but even that took take up more effort than it should have. His voice was hoarse with sickness. "We just have to stay positive."

Ferb was in the bed next to Phineas's, but rather than roll to his side, he remained on his back with his head turned toward his brother. Instead of a verbal reply, he gave a weak thumbs up. It was almost funny; no matter the situation, Ferb was a man of few words, preferring to let actions speak for him.

Ever-optimistic, Phineas sighed happily. "Just think, Ferb. Soon, we'll be better, and we'll be doing all kinds of cool stuff. Like, maybe...building a rocket. Or, fighting a mummy! Or, climbing up the Eiffel Tower! Or, discovering something the doesn't exist!"

"Or, giving a monkey a shower?" Ferb suggested.

"Uh... I don't know why we'd wanna do that, but okay."

McKenzie chuckled. "You were about them, Perry. They have _some_ imaginations. And, I'm with Ferb. Monkeys could use a good shower."

I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but I could see the pain in her big blue eyes. Another glance down at my boys replaced my sadness with fury. Phineas and Ferb were young, innocent, and were always on their best behavior. They were the _last_ people who should have fallen victim to something this cruel.

* * *

><p>Here's a tip: If any of your loved ones are taken to the hospital for unknown reasons, do <em>not<em> let Pinky find out about it before you do. Because, he'll tell McKenzie, who'll tell Caspian, who'll insist on playing detective, because he has nothing better to do. Don't get me wrong. I appreciated his concern. It's just that, upon my arrival in the boys' bedroom, I realized how, well, old my mentor really was. I'll never know how I missed the gray hairs around his muzzle or his slower movements. Since my thoughts were already melancholy from my trip to the hospital, I started wondering how old Caspian was. And, how long capybaras like him lived.

Nevertheless, I wanted to know what happened to my boys, so McKenzie and I assisted him and Pinky, who had already been there, in searching for clues. It was a miracle that the rest of my family weren't home. We pretty much tore up the boys's room. I'm ashamed to admit that part of me was actually hoping to find drugs. It wasn't the best thought, but at least it would have explained what had happened to them. Fortunately - I _think_ it was fortunate - we didn't find anything unusual. It just seemed like an ordinary five year-old's bedroom.

Except that there were two nearly empty glasses in the room, one next to each of the boys' beds. That wasn't unusual. Phineas and Ferb often woke up at night for some water. No, the unusual thing was the light purple residue in each glass.

"Hey, Pinky," I called, knowing that he could identify substances like this better than the rest of us. I held out one the glasses to him. "What do you make of this?"

Just as he was about to examine in, Caspian snatched it out of his paw. "Why don't we let the more experienced agent handle this? Pinky," he handed it back to the Chihuahua, "what do you make of this?"

Pinky hesitantly took the glass, giving me a quizzacle look. I just shrugged. Hey, Caspian was like that sometimes. Pinky squinted at the purple stuff, subconsciously sticking his tongue out in thought. A moment later, he his already large eyes grew bigger, and he began shaking a little more than usual. "Uh, I-I don't know for certain, but...they look like pill fragments."

I grabbed the dresser drawer to keep myself from fainting.

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><p><strong>Bum, bum, BUM! Sorry. That was just screaming for a dramatic music sting. Until next time, live long and review!<strong>


	22. Family Reunion

**Whew! This took a while! Mostly due to a combination of writer's block and general procrastination. Also, I've been working on other things.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One: Family Reunion<strong>

There's an old saying: Just when you think things can't get any worse...they do. Things got worse after McKenzie and Pinky left. Caspian stayed behind, because he wanted to seem like the bigger person, er, animal. That, and he needed to use the restroom. I believe his exact words were, 'If I don't hit a toilet soon, you kids are cleaning up after me.' Despite leaving though, Pinky promised to analyze the residue in the glass to find out exactly what it was, and McKenzie said that she was only leaving because her owner would 'have a panic attack' if she wasn't back soon.

Since those two had gone home, and Caspian was in the bathroom, I was left alone in my boys' room, pondering what to do next. I deduced that whoever drugged Phineas and Ferb was probably trying to threaten me; I couldn't fathom the idea of two five-year-olds having enemies that bold or dangerous. Then again, I didn't think I had any real enemies at the time either. The only one I could think of was Dr. Doofenshmirtz, but I had only had one (official) fight with him, and he couldn't even steal cats successfully, let alone sneak into a house and drug children.

"G'day, Squirt. It's been a long time."

My heart stopped, and my stomach dropped to the floor. Only one animal had ever called me squirt. I turned around. There she was. My own mother. Sitting on the window sill. A gentle breeze blew in and ruffled her fur in a way that would have made any other man swoon. Patricia the Platypus seemed to have that effect on men. Not me, though, for obvious reasons.

Actually, I wasn't sure how to react. Should I have been overjoyed to see my mother again? Terrified at the fact that the leader of STORM's Australian division had found me? I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there, waiting for Patricia to make her next move.

She hopped off the window sill and looked around the room, like she was supposed to be there. "I'll say one thing about those kids," she said calmly. "They are pretty organized for their age. Especially given their species."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not the least bit amused by her 'given their species' comment.

Patricia put her hands over her heart and acted like she was hurt. "No hello? No hug? I'm your mother, and you won't even give me a proper greeting?" She lowered her hands and shook her head in disappointment. "Those OWCAs really messed you up, huh?"

Quickly losing patience, I asked again, "What are you doing here?"

She clapped her hands together, like a teenager about to share a particularly juicy piece of gossip. "Well, I heard from STORM's American division that there was a rather peculiar platypus in OWCA." My mind wandered to that bat from the expedition. "Rumor had it that he showed the attack instinct of a STORM soldier." She shrugged. "What can I say? One thing led to another."

Oh, a whole bunch of hell. It was my own fault she was here. I _had_ assaulted an American STORM soldier. Well, kind of. Sure, I had done it to protect McKenzie, but even so, I had inadvertantly started a chain of events that led to my own discovery.

I kept my face blank, not giving Patricia the satisfaction of seeing me waver. "So, you're here to take me back to Australia?" To my surprise, she actually chuckled. "What's so funny?"

She calmly walked up to me. I didn't move a single muscle, but I mentally prepared myself for an attack. To my surprise, she simply plucked my fedora off my head and tossed it aside. "You just looked so silly in that thing." She placed a hand on my shoulder, and I almost flinched at the contact. I didn't remember her being so intimidating. "But, seriously, I _do_ want you to come home, Perry. You would make a fantastic addition to STORM. Imagine what you could do for the society."

I searched her face for any trace of lying. There was none. Still, what she was saying nagged at me a little. "Do you want a soldier, or do you want your son back?"

Patricia put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes, as though I had just asked the dumbest question possible. "Please. _Of course_, I want a soldier. What other reason is there for me to have children?" She shrugged, indifferently. "And, why else would I have raped OWCA's best agent?" I could feel my eyes practically bulging out of there sockets. "What? You didn't know about that?"

Not a single response came to me. She didn't care about me at all! She just wanted a strong ally! Did she ever care about me? And...did she say that she _raped_ my father? She did! She raped my father! The woman was out of her mind! How else could she have been so nonchalant about this? Patricia lied to me. She'd been lying since the moment I hatched. Hell, she was probably lying when I was an egg! Anger, betrayal, heartache, it all welled up in me, and I did the one thing I had vowed never to do.

I hit a girl.

More specifically, I punched my own mother square in the face, sending her toppling almost cartoonishly to the floor, her nose bleeding. I wanted to do it again. Not just because she was evil, but because it felt so _good_. The adrenaline, the wetness and warmth of fresh blood on my knuckle, the satisfying crunch of my victim's broken bill. I remember wondering if this was what they meant by 'high on life.'

And, Patricia could see my excitement. Triumph was visible in her copper eyes that were so much like my own. She had, maybe intentionally or maybe not, reawoken my passion. My passion for violence, my lust for blood. She stood up, and her words were a little slurred from her now-crooked bill. "See? It feels good, right? And, you can do a lot more of that, if you come home."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. I mean, _really_ tempted. That rush, that power! It was overwhelming, and I loved it!

"Kid, I am in love with that liquid soap in the bathroom!" Caspian's voice broke me from my trance. "What is that, jasmine or somethin'?"

Patricia groaned and smacked her forehead, muttering, "I hate when stories spontaneously change tone." She plucked a gun from her utility belt and handed it to me, a sadistic grin on her face. "But, it doesn't matter, because you're going to kill him, for me."

A smile tugged at my bill, as I took the gun from her. The high was wearing down. I wanted it back. Maybe that was why humans took drugs. Only, _my_ ecstacy wouldn't kill me. Other people, sure, but not me. So, when the capybara walked obliviously into the room and carelessly slammed the door behind him, I raised my gun and took aim.

Caspian saw my mother and me and did a double-take, clearly not quite believing what he was seeing. He briefly looked behind him, like he thought I was aiming at someone else, then pointed to himself in the universal sign for 'Me?' I pointed at him, confirming that I was indeed aiming at him.

"Wh-Whoa, kid," he said hesitantly. "Is this- Is this one of those ti-imes when the story spontaneously changes tone?" He laughed half-heartedly to lighten the mood. The fear on his face was making me high.

I released the safety on my weapon.

"Wait, Perry, I-I don't what's going on, but _please _don't make me fight you!"

My finger rested on the trigger.

"I don't know what _she's_ doing here or what she told you, but she was lying! I think. Just-Just don't do anything crazy!"

I...

"Come on, man! You and I both know you're better than this!"

I...

"I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but I'm pretty sure it's not right! You know murder's wrong!"

I...

"Killing is a last resort!"

I...dropped the gun. My mind finally caught up with what was happening, and I dropped the gun. There was something I hadn't noticed before. Something in his eyes. Yes, those charcoal eyes held their share of panic, but there was something else: hurt, betrayal. It mirrored what was feeling mere minutes ago.

I couldn't move. I could barely breathe. What was wrong with me? What the freaking hell was I thinking!? That violent, blood-thirsty sadist wasn't me!

...Was it?

Caspian took slow, cautious steps toward me. Speaking more gently than I'd thought was possible for him, he said, "Deep breaths, Perry. It's okay."

"It won't be for long," Patricia said. She did _not _look happy.

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><p><strong>Another cliffhanger, huh? Don't worry. This story is off hiatus...maybe. Review!<strong>


	23. Fighting for My Sanity

**Warning: You will absolutely hate me after this chapter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two: Fighting for My Sanity<strong>

Patricia shook her head in disappointment. "I thought I'd raised you right, Perry." She plucked the gun up off the floor and turned it over in her hands, as though inspecting it. "I tried to be a good mother, but I guess kids don't always turn out the way you hope they do."

I wanted so badly to snatch the gun from her clutches and shoot her with it. I wanted to see her bleed out on to the carpet, to smell that familiar aroma of death- Ugh! Why couldn't I stop thinking about it! _I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer._ I repeated that over and over in my head, like a mantra.

Caspian took a step forward and shakily positioned himself for a fight. Wait, _shakily_? "You get out of hear, you Embassador of the Underworld!"

Patricia glanced at him, her expression unreadable, then turned to me, shoving the gun into my hands. "Because you're my son, I'll give you one more chance. Kill him, or I'll kill both of you."

In other words, Caspian would die either way. I couldn't let that happen! I had to do something, _anything_, that would save both myself and Caspian. Or, at least Caspian, who was always good to me, who stuck by me no matter what. Even after he learn that I was _her_ son. Caspian supported me. He believed in me. He was practically-

No, he _was_ my father.

A hesitant, "Perry," snapped me out of my musing. Caspian had never looked more somber. "Do what she says."

Um...what? I prayed that I'd heard wrong.

Patricia chuckled. "Oh, this oughta be interesting."

"You be quiet!" I hissed at her. I turned to Caspian and requested more gently. "Could you repeat that?"

Caspian sighed. I'd never seen him so...defeated, for lack of a better word. I wondered what he was thinking about. "Perry, she's gonna kill me, no matter what. What's better? One agent dying or two?"

"I...I-I'm not gonna kill you," I breathed, having trouble processing this.

"Perry, I'm an old man. I've lived longer than most capybaras." He bit his lip. "The only reason I panicked about you shooting me before is that I didn't want to die in cold blood. And, you seemed kind of unstable at the time. This is different. I mean...surely you've noticed..."

Noticed what? Suddenly, I got a whiff of something. Not quite death, but it was a similar scent. It was coming from Caspian. It was faint, but it was there. Suddenly, it all clicked in my mind. Caspian had been slowing down. He'd been unsteady on his feet, he'd been having trouble with tasks that my friends and I had found easy, but I had assumed it was because we were younger than him. I was an idiot.

Caspian was dying, and I hadn't even noticed.

What hurt even more was that he'd known he was dying. And yet, he'd never stopped being Caspian. He was still the same strong-willed, loyal agent that taught me about OWCA. He'd never once acted like anything was wrong. Why hadn't he said anything? The answer was obvious, I realized. He didn't want pity. He didn't want to be treated differently, so he never told anyone. It took a lot of effort to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Caspian breathed deeply, as though finding the courage to continue. "I don't have long, Perry. A couple days, at most. And, if taking my last breath means saving a young agent, such as yourself, then I'll die. It's okay with me."

What Caspian was saying made sense. But, I couldn't kill him. Not after everything he'd done for me. Even if he didn't have long...he should have been able to live out the rest of his days. Caspian smiled sadly and nodded in acceptance.

Narrowing my eyes, I said a firm, "No."

Patricia shoved me to the ground and yanked the gun out of my hands. I watched in horror as she pointed it at my face. "It sickens me that my only son would side with human-lovers," she said calmly.

Caspian tried to bowl her over, but she easily knocked him off his feet, despite being much smaller than him. He landed on his back and struggled to get up. I felt completely helpless, as he stopped struggling and laid there, his breathing ragged. My stomach churned in terror, when he coughed up blood.

"Since you're dying, anyway," Patricia said, pointing the gun at him, "I'll kill you first."

Fury bloomed in my chest. I got up and grabbed the gun, attempting to wrestle it from Patricia's grip. All could think about was saving Caspian. Who, by the way, grabbed Patricia's leg and pulled her to the ground. I gripped the gun tighter in surprise.

But, my finger was on the trigger when I did it.

And, it had been pointing at Caspian.

He cried out in agony. The bullet had made a hole in his stomach. Blood flowed out of the open wound. Caspian had already been dying, and I had practically sealed his fate.

_I'm not a killer._

But, the blood was such a pretty color.

_I'm not a killer._

But, his agony was such a pleasant sight.

_I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer._

I liked it. I didn't like it. I don't know which sentence is more accurate.

Patricia must have thought that I did it on purpose, because she let out a deranged cackle and praised, "Fantastic! Look at what you've done! I'm so proud of you, Perry!"

My eyes locked with Caspian's. His breathing was shallow, but his dark eyes were as determined and fierce as ever. He nodded. I understood.

The image of my own mother gazing in delight at my father's (meaning Caspian's) dying form is forever burned into my memory. So is the sound of the gun I fired and her dropping to the floor, blood pooling out from her chest as her dark brown eyes eventually rolled back into her head.

Caspian's last words were, "Ya done good, kid. Ya done good."

For the second time that day, I dropped the gun. I stared at the scene in despair. I had accidentally killed Caspian. _He didn't have long, anyway,_ my mind reasoned. I had purposely killed my mother. _She was a psychotic bitch._

At the same time, I realized that murdering them was _fun_. A part of me had _enjoyed_ their deaths. I wanted to throw up, to expel the part that liked it, but I didn't. Instead, I ran out of the room and into the hallway, slamming the door behind me and sliding to the floor.

Tears running down my face, I texted Major Monogram about what happened. Nothing specific, just saying that there were two murders in my boys' room. And, that it was gruesome.

"I'm not a killer," I tried to convince myself after sending the message. "I'm not a killer."

I was a killer.

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><p><strong>So...you hate me? You probably hate me, right? Yeah, I thought so. Could you still review though? Please?<strong>


	24. Closure

**Well, this certainly took a while. Sorry about that. :P**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three: Closure<strong>

I wanted so badly to attend Caspian's funeral. But, when I'd arrived at the church Major Monogram had rented for the event - penciled in as "Dan Marsh's" funeral - I couldn't bring myself to enter. I'd arrived after everyone else, so thankfully no one noticed when I broke down on the church steps. I hated it. The weather was too nice, the church's structure looked too calming, and I wished that it was _my_ funeral the agents were attending. _I_ should have died. Patricia wanted _me_ dead, not Caspian. Hell, she probably didn't even know the guy!

I've never been the type to dwell on things, but, to this day, Caspian's death still bothers me. It doesn't upset me as much it did back then, but time doesn't heal all wounds.

I don't know when I stopped crying, or how long I'd been doing it, but eventually I found myself just sitting on the steps, 'what-ifs' flowing through my mind. What if Caspian hadn't stuck around? What if Patricia hadn't appeared? What if I hadn't shot Caspian? What if _I_ was the one killed?

What if I hadn't enjoyed the brutality of it all?

What if I didn't still get a little thrill when I thought about it?

"You okay, hun?"

I jumped a little at the voice. Fortunately, I knew who it was; I only knew one person - er, animal - with a Southern accent. Peaches sat down beside me, crossing one of her small legs over the other. The size difference between us was almost comical, as we sat in a comfortable silence.

A silence which was eventually broken by Peaches, who looked up at me and asked, "How ya holdin' up?" I simply shrugged, for there were no words for how I was "holdin' up." The hamster next to me seemed to understand and nodded. "Yeah. I reckon that's 'bout as well as ya can be. Y'all were pretty close."

I nodded. "Were you close to Caspian?"

She sighed and looked away sadly. "Yeah. We were good friends." Neither of us spoke for a while. "You know somethin'?" I looked at her expectantly. "Caspian was probably happy 'bout gettin' killed."

The statement came as a shock to me. What was she implying? That Caspian _wanted_ to die?

Peaches seemed to realize what that sounded like. "What I mean is, he probably didn't mind dying the way he did. He once told me that his biggest fear was 'kicking the bucket from oldness.' He didn't wanna die just 'cause his body was done living. Nah, he wanted to die fighting. And, he did." She smiled sadly. "He's mighty proud of you, Perry. 'Cause of where you came from, how you were such a fighter when you were found, most agents - admittedly, myself included - took you as a STORM spy. But, Caspian, though he had his share of suspiscions, believed in you. But, I think you know that already." I nodded, blinking away fresh tears. "Speaking of STORM, how are your owners doin'?"

"They're home," I answered, smiling a bit at the thought. "They're still a little shaky on their feet, but they're getting better."

"That's good to hear."

Anger flared up in me. "I still don't understand why Patricia poisoned them."

Peaches sighed. "Who knows why STORM does anything?" She stood up suddenly, looking as though a light bulb just went off. "Wait here." She climbed back up the stairs - which looked pretty hard, seeing as though she was barely the height of one step - and later returned with a hardback journal and an envelope. She handed them both to me. "I was s'pose to give these to you. Caspian had been talking 'bout handing the book off to you - Lord knows why - and some white rabbit told me to pass on the envelope. Said you'd know him. His name was Dennis."

Dennis? I hadn't seen him in months. I'd been wondering what had become of him. I opened the envelope, hoping it would shed some light.

And, boy did it.

_Perry,_

_Sorry, man. I guess I really screwed up, huh? The truth is that I'm the one who drugged your owners. Okay, the whole truth is that I was in the Academy as a STORM spy, ended up actually liking you, and drugged five-year-olds anyway. In my defense, my boss is not a pleasant man, and I would have been in deep doo-doo if I hadn't done as I was asked._

_I reported to him about the rumors circling around. You know, the ones about you being in STORM. That's why the OWCA Headquarters was attacked. I guess the Australian STORM's leader was pretty ticked about you going missing. She'd contacted the other STORM divisions and demanded that they report back to her if they found out anything about you. Why'd she care so much? I don't know. I'm clueless._

_And, as for the kids, my boss had been keeping an eye on them for a while, now. He saw their over-sized IQs and imaginations as a threat, so he wanted them out of the way. Can you say "paranoid?"_

_Naturally, OWCA will eventually know about this, if they don't already, so there's a chance we won't be seeing each other again. That chance is made even bigger, since I'm leaving Danville. After what I've done, I just can't be in STORM anymore. You were smart, leaving before you could do anything too horrible. I wish I was like that. Maybe then, you never would have had to go through any of this._

_Again, I can't apologize enough, though I know it won't do any good._

_Dennis_

I had to reread the letter to make sure I hadn't become dyslexic. Dennis was my friend. I couldn't imagine _him_ working with STORM or drugging little kids, even if he did regret it. I suddenly realized that Peaches was staring at me, as though waiting for me to say something. I shook my head, signalling that I wasn't comfortable telling her what the letter said. She nodded in acceptance.

I folded up the letter, tucked it into my fedora, and opened the burgundy journal. There were a few sticky notes - obviously so all the writing would fit - attached to the first page.

_I come from a long line of secret agents. My grandfather recorded tales of all the shit he'd done in a journal. My ma did the same thing, then I decided to do it. Since I don't have a biological kid, I've decided to pass the tradition on to you. You're kind of the son I never wanted but got stuck with and grew to love, so I figured you could give it a shot._

_Caspian_

Eyes watering, I chuckled a little at the Caspian-style sentiment. I thought of him as a family member, and it was nice to know that the feeling was mutual. I looked upward, wondering if Caspian was watching me right then.

Peaches excused herself, when Pinky and McKenzie rushed out to comfort me. They asked over and over if I was alright. It would take time, but I knew I'd eventually be okay.

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><p>At first, I was only writing all this because Caspian wanted me to. Now, after finishing my story, I understand the purpose of this journal. As a secret agent, a lot of bad things come your way. A lot of these things you just don't want others to know about, but you still need to get them off your chest. Maybe that's why girls write in diaries, not that I'll start doing that.<p>

And, who knows? Maybe some day, after I've gone to join Caspian and all the other fallen agents, a young agent will find this journal and read it. Maybe, it'll inspire him/her to start his/her own journal. Whatever happens, I'm glad I wrote all this. You can't change the past, but that doesn't mean the past should affect how you live in the present. It's like Phineas always says: Carpe diem.

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><p><strong>And, that's a wrap! This was a lot of fun for me to write. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. Review!<strong>


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